Just Love Me
by chocolatequeen
Summary: Christmas angst with a happy, fluffy ending. Set during Parting of the Ways/The Christmas Invasion. Canon divergence assuming Rose and the Doctor were a couple before POTW. Labeled Ten x Rose, but is of course Nine x Rose as well.
1. Chapter 1

The title comes from the song, "That's What I Want for Christmas," by Nancy Wilson.

When you said yesterday  
That it's nearly Christmas-  
What did I want,  
and I thought-  
Just love me  
Love me, love me  
That's what I want  
For Christmas

Chapter 1/4

Timepetalsprompts holiday bingo: wish

The Doctor stared at Rose in horror as half a million Daleks died at once, their atoms turned to dust by the power of raw time—the same power that burned in the eyes of the woman he loved.

"Rose, you've done it. Now stop," he pleaded, unable to look away from her terrible beauty. "Just let go." They had only just begun to explore a romantic relationship; he couldn't lose her now.

She gazed blankly into space instead of looking down at him. "How can I let go of this?" she asked. "I bring life."

The Doctor shuddered when he felt Jack come back to life, felt the immensity of what Rose had done to him. "But this is wrong! You can't control life and death."

"But I can." Rose finally looked down at him, and the determination in her eyes terrified the Doctor. "The sun and the moon, the day and night." A tear streaked down her face. "But why do they hurt?"

That was what the Doctor had been most afraid of, and he dropped his gaze to the floor in shame. "The power's going to kill you and it's my fault." _My fault—oh, my precious girl, you shouldn't have done this. Not for me._

"I can see everything." The Doctor's head snapped up so he could look at Rose. "All that is, all that was, all that ever could be."

Time senses. But humans weren't equipped to feel time moving around them like that. The Doctor stood up, his eyes never leaving Rose's face.

"That's what I see. All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?"

"My head," she whimpered.

"Come here." Rose Tyler had saved him, and now he would save her.

"It's killing me."

He took her hands and slowly pulled her closer. "I think you need a Doctor."

The Doctor's eyes closed when he pressed his mouth against Rose's in a firm kiss. He tried to catalog the feeling of her soft lips against his, knowing this would be the last time he kissed her in this body. _Possibly the last time I kiss her in any body,_ he thought, feeling a quiver of fear run through him when he thought about how she might respond to his regeneration.

He shuddered when he felt the energy of the Time Vortex leave Rose and flow into him. No mortal body was meant to be Time's vessel, and he would soon pay the price. It was worth it though, if it meant saving Rose's life. That was his first wish, that Rose would live. His second was more selfish, but no less desperate— _Please, just let her love the new me,_ he begged the universe.

With Time flowing around them, the Doctor slowly pulled out of the kiss. Looking down at Rose, he could see the last of the Vortex transfer from her to him. As soon as it was done, Rose lost consciousness, and he caught her carefully and lowered her to the floor.

Then he looked back at his TARDIS and slowly exhaled, allowing the ship to reabsorb the energy into her heart. Streams of golden light flowed out of him into the console room, and then the doors gently closed.

The Doctor staggered back when it was done. Already, his internal organs were shutting down, and he had to get Rose into the TARDIS and get them away from here before he regenerated.

He bent down and cupped her face gently, taking a moment to blur her memories of what had just happened. Rose wouldn't be happy with him when she found out he'd messed with her head without her permission, but it would be just as dangerous for her to remember everything that she'd done as it had been for her to do it.

Once the memories were locked away, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the TARDIS, setting her down on the grating while he started the dematerialisation sequence. The wrong feeling of Jack Harkness was coming closer, and he had to get away before the immortal man caught up with them.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose's eyes slowly blinked open. She heard the familiar hum of the TARDIS, though it seemed to be clearer now than it ever had been before. They were in flight then, and if the TARDIS was moving, then the Doctor…

She pushed herself up on her elbows and let out a sigh of relief when she saw him leaning against the console. "What happened?"

He barely glanced at her. "Don't you remember?"

Rose screwed her eyes shut, trying to remember what had happened after the Doctor had sent her home. "It's like… there was this singing."

"That's right," he said flippantly. "I sang a song and the Daleks ran away."

He was obviously being facetious, so Rose ignored him, still trying to grasp her own memories. _Why can't I remember?_ There was a gap of thirty minutes in her memory—and how did she know how long it was? She shoved that question aside and sat all the way up.

"I was at home," she said hesitantly, then shook her head. "No, I wasn't; I was in the TARDIS, and there was this light." And that was where the memory ended. The rest of the missing time was gone, as if she were forbidden to see it. "I can't remember anything else."

She stared down at the grating, trying to force the missing memories to return. A headache built behind her eyes, so she gave up after a moment and looked up at the Doctor, hoping he would have answers.

The love in the Doctor's eyes when he smiled down at her made Rose's heart stutter. "Rose Tyler."

Rose smiled shyly. The way he said her name had always made her feel special, and the warm feeling had only gotten stronger when they'd decided to stop pretending they were just friends.

The Doctor chuckled. "I was going take you to so many places. Barcelona. Not the city Barcelona, the planet Barcelona. It would have been a proper date—thought we'd drop Jack off someplace for an evening and take off by ourselves." He laughed, but it sounded harsh, like it was covering something up. "Listen to how domestic I sound—Mum and Dad leaving the kids so they can have a night out."

Any other time, the idea of a real date with the Doctor would have thrilled Rose, but today, his use of past tense was freaking her out. He sounded… he was talking like… "Then, why can't we go?"

"Maybe you will, and maybe I will." The Doctor shook his head, and his smile disappeared. "But not like this."

Rose stood up and stared at the Doctor. "You're not making sense."

"I might never make sense again," the Doctor told her, rambling in the way that usually meant they were in danger and he was trying to distract someone—either her, or the person threatening them. "I might have two heads, or no head. Imagine me with no head. And don't say that's an improvement."

Rose rolled her eyes and smiled at her ridiculous alien boyfriend.

"But it's a bit dodgy, this process," he added, all the humour leaving his voice. "You never know what you're going to end up with—"

She watched in horror as golden light burst out of his gut, making him double over in pain. "Doctor!" she cried, taking a few steps towards him.

He shot her a fierce look that was equal parts command and pain. "Stay away!"

Rose took half a step back. There was something wrong, so very wrong, and he kept trying to pretend like everything was fine.

"Doctor, tell me what's going on."

The Doctor's head bobbed once, then he looked at her regretfully. "I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex, and no one's meant to do that." He gritted his teeth and hissed out a slow breath. "Every cell in my body's dying."

Denial slammed into Rose. The Doctor couldn't die. He couldn't, not when they were just starting to figure out what they were. Not when the universe needed him even more than she did.

"Can't you do something?" He was always going on about his superior biology—surely he could save his own life somehow.

"Yeah, I'm doing it now."

Rose's eyes flicked up and down his body frantically, trying to see where he was hurt, and what he was doing to fix it.

"Time Lords have this little trick," he explained, "it's sort of a way of cheating death." He looked down, his face lined with pain, and after taking a few laboured breaths, he met her gaze again. "Except… It means I'm going to change, and I'm not going to see you again."

Part of Rose's brain shut down with that announcement. He wasn't going to see her again? But… no…

"Not like this," the Doctor continued, but Rose couldn't comprehend what he was saying. "Not with this daft old face. And before I go—"

"Don't say that," Rose interrupted quickly.

"Rose," he said, and she started crying when she heard the tenderness in his voice. "Before I go, I just want to tell you, you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And do you know what? So was I."

The Doctor's lips curved in his beautiful smile, and Rose couldn't help but return it. She didn't understand what was happening, didn't understand the grief in his eyes behind the smile, but he was gorgeous like this and she loved him.

The smile disappeared and he hunched over, his arms wrapped around his stomach. Then, a second later, the Doctor threw his head back and golden light streamed out of his body. Rose had a hazy memory of seeing something similar once before, but she couldn't even begin to care. She stumbled back from the brilliant light, covering her eyes until she could tell it was gone.

When she looked up again, her Doctor was gone and a new man was standing in his place, wearing his clothes. The stranger caught his breath, then looked at her.

"Hello," he said, and he spoke in a soft Estuary accent, rather than the Northern tones she loved so dearly.

"Okay. Ooo…" He paused for a moment and ran his tongue over his teeth. "New teeth. That's weird."

Rose nearly snorted. The Doctor was gone, disappeared in an explosion of light, and this… this… person was here in his place, and _new teeth_ were weird?

"So, where was I? Oh, that's right." He bounced lightly on his toes. "Barcelona."

The new Doctor felt regeneration energy still crackling through him as he bent over the console and started setting coordinates. Rose was still hiding behind a pillar, and he tried to forget the shock he'd seen on her face before he'd turned away from her.

"6:00 PM…" he mumbled as he twisted a dial. "Tuesday… October… 5006…" He stepped back from the controls and nodded in satisfaction. "On the way to Barcelona!"

Then he drew a deep breath and turned to look at Rose. He waggled his eyebrows, hoping his own excitement would pull her along.

"Now then… what do I look like?" he asked the woman he still loved. Her brow furrowed, and he hurried to fill the silence before she could tell him something he wouldn't want to hear. "No, no no, no no no no no no no. No. Don't tell me."

Rose looked him up and down, but without the hint of attraction he liked to see in her eyes. _Is it really that bad, then?_ It shouldn't be—as focused as he'd been on Rose during his regeneration, the new him should be exactly her type.

The Doctor kept talking as he examined his new body. "Let's see… two legs, two arms, two hands…" He held his right wrist, moving it carefully. "Slight weakness in the dorsal tubercle."

A new thought occurred to him, and his hands flew up to his head. "Hair! I'm not bald!" he crowed, running his fingers through his new hair. "Oh, oh! Big hair!" His thumbs brushed against his jawline, and he smirked. "Sideburns, I've got sideburns!" he said, feeling them. "Or really bad skin."

Rose still hadn't said a word, not that he'd given her room to talk. He kept going, slapping at his belly. "Little bit thinner. That's weird. Give me time; I'll get used to it."

Something caught on his shirt as he moved his hands around his waist, taking in the new skinny him, and his eyes widened. "I… have got… a mole. I can feel it. Between my shoulder blades, there's a mole." He tried to stretch far enough to touch it, but it was just out of reach. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the muscles that had tightened, and grinned at the discovery. "That's all right. Love the mole."

The tension was too much, and he straightened up and beamed at Rose. When he saw the fear on her face, what little hope he'd had left disappeared, but he kept the smile plastered on his face anyway.

"Go on then, tell me. What do you think?"

"Who are you?" she asked, in a voice more timid than he'd ever heard from Rose Tyler.

His smile disappeared entirely. He'd been afraid she wouldn't like the new him, but he hadn't thought she would doubt who he was. "I'm the Doctor," he said, wincing when he heard the wounded little boy tone in his voice.

Rose shook her head and shifted on her feet. "No… Where is he? Where's the Doctor? What have you done to him?" she demanded, her voice rising at the end.

"You saw me, I… I changed…" The Doctor pointed over his shoulder at the spot by the console where he'd regenerated. "Right in front of you…" he added. How could she not believe he was himself, when she'd watched the entire process?

"I saw him sort of explode," Rose stammered out, "and then you replaced him, like a… a teleport or a transmat or a body swap or something."

The more she went on, the harder the knot in the Doctor's gut became. He'd changed for Rose Tyler, because he loved her too much to let her die. He'd done it trusting that she would be one of the few to stay with him through a regeneration, but this was worse than her not wanting the new him.

After a moment of silence, she crept out from behind the pillar and pushed him lightly on his chest. "You're not fooling me."

The Doctor swayed lightly on his feet, his mind scrambling for a way he could convince her.

"I've seen all sorts of things," Rose continued. "Nanogenes… Gelth…" She lowered her chin and glared at him. "Slitheen…"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at that. Did Rose honestly think he could be a Slitheen? In this skinny body?

But apparently logic failed in the face of her shock. "Oh, my God, are you a Slitheen?"

"I'm not a Slitheen," he said soothingly, hoping to reason with her.

"Send him back," she demanded. "I'm warning you; send the Doctor back right now!"

The Doctor couldn't take it any longer. "Rose, it's me." He leaned forward, hoping to convince her of his earnestness. "It's… Honestly, it's me."

She stared at him, her chest heaving.

"I was dying. To save my own life I changed my body. Every single cell, but…" He shrugged. "It's still me."

"You can't be," Rose whispered.

There was one more thing he could try, even though it would put his own hearts on the line. He stepped closer to her and looked down into her whiskey-brown eyes.

"Then how could I remember this? Very first word I ever said to you. Trapped in that cellar, surrounded by shop window dummies… Oh—" He looked off into space, remembering all they'd done since then. Then he looked down at her. "—such a long time ago. I took your hand—" He copied that motion, and her hand felt just as good to his new body as it had before. Rose looked down at their joined hands, and he felt a burst of hope that she might be understanding. "—I said one word… just one word, I said… _Run._ "

He looked at her, silently begging her to believe him. Tears filled her eyes. "Doctor," she said, and it wasn't a question.

Relief coursed through the Doctor, and he smiled down at her. "Hello," he said gently.

Rose rocked back on her heels, exhaling loudly. The Doctor darted around the console, feeling both exuberant that she finally believed him and nervous because she still hadn't said what she thought of the new him.

"And we never stopped, did we?" he asked. "All across the universe. Running, running, running…" He flicked a few switches on the console, then looked up at her. "One time we had to hop." He started hopping at the memory. "Do you remember? Hopping for our lives."

Rose didn't smile. She didn't move. She just leaned against a pillar and stared at him.

"Yeah? All that hopping?" he repeated, desperate for some kind of reaction from her. "Remember hopping for your life? Yeah?! Hop? With the…"

But Rose didn't respond, and eventually he stopped hopping and rubbed at the back of his neck—and oh, that was going to be a new nervous habit, he could already tell.

"No?" he mumbled.

Rose licked her lips. "Can you change back?"

The Doctor's hearts clenched. "Do you want me to?"

She nodded quickly. "Yeah."

"Oh." And this was what it felt like to be punched in the gut.

"Can you?"

"No." He'd never really wanted to before, but seeing the hope in Rose's eyes, he wished he could give her this. He looked down at the grating, unable to stand her disappointment. "Do you want to leave?" he asked, trying not to beg her to say no. The irony didn't escape him—he'd changed because he couldn't bear to lose her, and in the end, he might anyway.

Rose's eyes widened. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" the Doctor said hurriedly, anxious to disabuse her of that notion. "But…" He swallowed hard. "Your choice, if you want to go home…"

Rose stared at the Doctor, not sure what to think. He'd changed right in front of her—or so he claimed—and now he was sending her home? If he were the Doctor, wouldn't he know she would never want to leave him? A niggling reminder that the Doctor had never quite believed anyone could be that devoted to him snuck into her thoughts, but Rose was still too emotionally raw to accept the logic behind that thought.

Apparently, her silence was the only answer he needed. He nodded quickly. "Cancel Barcelona." He faced the console and twisted some dials, adjusting their coordinates. "Change to… London… the Powell Estate… ah… let's say the 24th of December. Consider it a Christmas present," he said softly, looking at her.

There was something sad in his eyes, and Rose inched her way towards him. If he didn't really want this… if he was doing it because he thought it was what she wanted…

"There." He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, with his hands tucked under his armpits, almost daring her to argue with him.

 _Or does he want me to argue?_ she wondered, unable to tell if he simply didn't care about her anymore, or if he was only pretending he didn't care so she couldn't hurt him.

The TARDIS shuddered while Rose was still trying to read his body language. "I'm going home?" she asked in disbelief. After all she'd done to get back to him, did he really think she would want to go home?

"Up to you," he said breezily. "Back to your mum. It's all waiting—fish and chips, sausage and mash, beans on toast…" He looked up at the ceiling. "No, Christmas! Turkey! Although… having met your mother… nut loaf would be more appropriate."

It was such a Doctor thing to say that Rose couldn't help but smile.

"Was that a smile?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

"No."

"That was a smile…" he said teasingly.

Rose stared at the console, tracing her fingers over the dials and controls. "No it wasn't."

"You smiled…"

Rose was appalled to discover that his own smile was already her weakness. "No, I didn't," she denied, trying to put some kind of barrier back up between herself and this Doctor—a Doctor who was undeniably attractive, but who hadn't said a word about still wanting to be with her.

"Oh, come on," the Doctor pleaded, "all I did was change, I didn't…"

A loud retching noise interrupted his sentence, and Rose looked up from the console. The Doctor stared back at her, his eyes wide.

"What?" she asked.

"I said I…"

But again, instead of finishing his sentence, he doubled over and gagged. Rose took half a step towards him, wanting to help, but what could she do? She'd never been more aware that her Doctor had an alien biology. Maybe this was normal for him.

"Uh oh."

 _Or maybe not._ Rose cautiously moved closer to him. "Uh… are you alright?"

The Doctor opened his mouth and golden light streamed out of his mouth as he swayed on his feet.

"What's that?" Rose asked fearfully.

His eyes were glazed over, as if he were running a fever. "Oh… the change is going a bit wrong. I'm all—" This time when he gagged, he fell to his knees on the grating.

Rose stared down at him, feeling more helpless than she ever had before. "Look… maybe we should go back. Let's go and find Captain Jack; he'd know what to do." Jack had 100 times her experience with alien physiology.

The Doctor shook his head quickly. "Gah, he's busy! He's got plenty to do rebuilding the Earth!"

His eyes lit on the console. "I haven't used this one in years," he said, and flicked a switch.

The TARDIS shuddered violently, and Rose tipped forward against the console, only just managing to keep her feet. "What're you doing?!"

"Putting on a bit of speed! That's it!" The Doctor danced to the right and twisted a few more dials. Beneath her feet, Rose felt the TARDIS shimmy.

"My beautiful ship!" he crowed. "Come on, faster! That's a girl!"

Rose stared at the strange man wearing her Doctor's clothes. She'd almost believed he was the Doctor before, but the Doctor would never treat the TARDIS like this, at least not just for a bit of fun.

He grabbed a wheel and spun it quickly. "Faster! Wanna to break the time limit?"

Rose clung to the console, more than terrified of what was going on. Where they going to crash the TARDIS? _Could_ you even crash a time machine?

"Stop it!" she demanded.

"Ah, don't be so dull," the Doctor griped, and the derisive note in his voice stung. "Let's have a bit of fun! Let's rip through that vortex!" he said, punching the air to punctuate the comment.

The Doctor looked at her, and fear replaced the mania in his eyes for just a moment. "The regeneration's going wrong. I can't stop myself." His eyes squeezed shut as he groaned in pain. "Oh, my head…"

He bowed over the console for a bare second, then sprung back up, the out of control, manic Doctor again. "Faster! Let's open those engines!"

Something like a school bell rang shrilly in the TARDIS. Rose looked around frantically, then back at the Doctor. "What's that?"

The Doctor sidled over to her, a giddy smile on his face. "We're gonna crash land!" he said gleefully.

"Well then, do something!"

"Too late!" the Doctor chirped. "Out of control! Oh, I love it! Hot dawg!"

"You're gonna kill us!"

"Hold on tight, here we go!"

Rose looked at the stranger across the console and grabbed onto the ship, her gut clenched in fear.

"Christmas Eve!"

The TARDIS crashed into something, and Rose fell face first onto the console, the knobs digging into her belly. Then it hit something else on the other side, and she was knocked to the floor, wincing when the grating dug into her palms.

Finally, they landed with a crash and a thud, and the Doctor bounded to the door and flung it open. Rose groaned and pushed herself up to her feet.

"Here we are then," the Doctor said as he looked outside. "London. Earth. The solar system. We did it." He staggered out of the TARDIS, letting the door shut behind him.

Rose leaned on the console. "What do I do, girl?" she asked, having picked up the Doctor's habit of talking to the TARDIS. "He's actin' all weird, trying to get rid of me, treating you like that…"

The light by the door brightened, and Rose drew a deep breath. Right then. Seemed the TARDIS wanted her to go keep an eye on the mental Time Lord.

"All right," she muttered as she walked up the ramp, "but if I end up the victim of any more of his barmy plans, I'm holding you responsible."


	2. Chapter 2

Here is where the changes start to snowball. See if you can guess where I'm going next.

Timepetalsprompts holiday bingo: red and green

Rose promptly forgot about her threat to the TARDIS when she stepped out of the ship. The Doctor was unconscious on the ground, with Mickey kneeling beside him. "What happened? Is he all right?"

Mickey's gaze shifted from the Doctor to her and then back, and he shrugged helplessly. "I don't know; he just keeled over. But who is he? Where's the Doctor?"

"That's him, right in front of you." Rose took a deep breath and set her shoulders. "That's the Doctor."

"What do you mean, that's the Doctor?" her mum asked. "Doctor who?"

For once, the line didn't make Rose smile. " _The_ Doctor," she said. "He got… He was hurt, and he did this thing…" She sighed—how could she possibly explain what had happened when she barely understood it herself? "Just help me get him inside."

She bent down and picked up his feet, and Mickey took hold of the Doctor under the armpits. Together (with a lot of grunting on Rose's part), they carried the Doctor up three flights of stairs.

"My room," she huffed.

"Hold on!" Jackie protested. "I'm not having him sleeping in your room!"

Rose threw her an incredulous look. "Mum, he's unconscious. He's ill. D'you really think he's gonna be trying anything?"

"If he's that ill, then we should take him to hospital."

"Have you forgotten he's not human, Mum?" Rose asked as they walked along the balcony towards number 48. "Look, he just needs to rest. I'm not gonna sleep until he's better anyway, so why not my room?"

Her mum set her jaw. "He can sleep in my room." She unlocked the door and pointed to her bedroom. "I don't care what you get up to in that box of his, but you're not sharing a room with an alien under this roof."

Rose rolled her eyes, but did as she was told. Shouldering open the door to Jackie's room, she carried the Doctor over to the bed.

"Look, I've got to get back to work," Mickey said as soon as they got the Doctor lying down on the bed. "I'll come by when I get off, all right?"

"Yeah, whatever," Rose said, more interested in the Doctor's pale complexion. Was he naturally this pale now, or was it because he was sick?

"We need to get him out of these clothes," she mumbled. She untied the heavy boots and let them fall to the floor with a thud.

Jackie disappeared for a moment, then came back with a pair of men's pyjamas. "Here, put him in these." She stared down at the Doctor for a moment. "How sick is he, do you think?"

"I don't know, Mum. He just did this… this thing, and then he started acting all funny." Rose refrained from commenting on the Doctor's driving, knowing her mum already thought travelling with the Doctor was too dangerous. "All I know is there's something wrong."

Her mum nodded, then disappeared again. Rose blinked at when she heard the front door open and close—given the fuss she'd thrown over the Doctor sleeping in her bed, her sudden willingness to leave them alone while Rose undressed him was odd, but Rose wasn't going to argue.

"All right, Doctor," she murmured, pulling him up so he was leaning against her. "Let's get you out of these clothes."

Rose had always loved the Doctor's style—the soft leather jacket, the jumpers, and the dark jeans—but they hung so awkwardly on this new body that she was almost grateful to peel them off him. She took the jacket, jumper, and t-shirt off first and then pulled the pyjama top over his head, ruffling his hair ever more.

Then she laid him gently back onto the bed and bit her lip. _Right. I can do this,_ she told herself, and quickly undid his belt and the button on his jeans. She felt her cheeks flush as she pulled the zip down—the Doctor had always been conscious in her dreams of undressing him.

She let out a breath of relief when she saw he was wearing pants. "Thanks for that at least," she said as she awkwardly removed his jeans and tugged the pyjama bottoms up his legs.

Through it all, the Doctor never regained consciousness. When she was done, Rose sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at him. _What am I supposed to do now?_ she wondered. She felt just as helpless as she had earlier when the Doctor had sent her back to Earth. She'd gone back so she could help him, but here he was, still needing her, and she didn't know what to do.

She lifted her hand hesitantly and ran it through his new hair, enjoying the way the silky soft strands felt between her fingers. The Doctor sighed in his sleep and leaned into the caress, and Rose bit back a smile before giving in to his subtle request and scratching at his scalp.

He hummed, and some of the lines on his face disappeared. _Note to self,_ Rose said, _the new Doctor likes having his hair played with._ She let herself think, just for a moment, of all the ways she could have her hands in his hair.

Her eyes slipped shut and she imagined kissing the Doctor again. But when her mind stubbornly refused to replace the image of her old Doctor with this new face, she whimpered. What if the new Doctor didn't want her?

The sound of the front door opening interrupted her morose thoughts, and a moment later, her mum was handing her a stethoscope. "Here we go."

Rose took them eagerly and put the earpieces in while her mum kept talking.

"Tina the cleaner's got this lodger, a medical student, and she was fast asleep, so I just took it. Though I still say we should take him to hospital."

Rose pulled the stethoscope down and stared at her mum. _Didn't I already say…_ "We can't. They'd lock him up. They'd dissect him. One bottle of his blood could change the future of the human race." She held up a hand when Jackie tried to argue. "No! Shush!"

Jackie quieted, and Rose listened carefully for the Doctor's hearts, first the left, then the right. She drew a sigh of relief when she could hear them both, even if the dual rhythm sounded a little fast.

"Both working."

"What do you mean, both?" her mum asked.

Rose removed the stethoscope and nodded at the Doctor. "Well, he's got two hearts."

"Oh, don't be stupid."

The scornful disbelief in her mother's eyes got Rose's back up, and she stood up to leave the room. "Well, he has."

"Anything else he's got two of?"

Rose's face flamed and she whirled back around to face her mum. No matter what Jackie thought, their snogging so far had given Rose only the vaguest idea of what was inside the Doctor's pants.

"Leave him alone," she said fiercely, before fleeing without letting Jackie respond.

 _I need something to eat._

Of course, her mum followed her into the kitchen, not letting her have a moment to regain her composure. "How can he go changing his face?" she asked. When Rose didn't answer, she pressed further. "Is that a different face or is he a different person?"

The question, so close to Rose's own fears, stung. "How should I know?" she retorted, wincing at how strident she sounded. "Sorry," she mumbled a moment later, and her mum bit her lip and nodded.

"The thing is I thought I knew him, Mum. I thought me and him were—" She broke off without finishing the sentence. Until she knew the new Doctor wanted her, she wouldn't tell anyone that they'd been a proper couple before all this happened. "And then he goes and does this." Rose wiped a stray tear away from her eye. "I keep forgetting he's not human."

The truth trembled on her lips, and Rose quickly sought some distraction. "The big question is," she said, grabbing her mum's hand, "where'd you get a pair of men's pyjamas from?"

oOoOoOoOo

Mickey came 'round at 6:00, like he'd promised. "Want to go into town?" he asked. "I reckon you haven't had time to do any Christmas shopping yet."

Rose glanced down the hall toward the bedrooms, but her mum shook her head quickly. "Oh, go on Rose. He's just resting, and you being here won't do anything extra for him. You should relax with Mickey for a few hours."

Jackie's eyes darted between the two of them, and it was transparently obvious she still hoped they'd get back together. Rose sighed—she'd try to convince her later that that wouldn't happen. Right now, she didn't have the energy for the inevitable argument, especially not in front of Mickey himself.

"All right, fine." She pulled her winter coat on and looked at the Doctor one more time. _Still sleeping._ "But promise you'll call if anything happens."

Jackie rolled her eyes. "I promise. Now go!"

She and Mickey reached the bus stop just as the one they wanted pulled up. Thirty minutes later, they hopped off on a busy shopping street and joined the crowds of people walking towards the nearby Christmas market to do a little last minute holiday shopping.

"So what do you need?" Mickey asked, pulling a handful of notes out of his pocket and peeling one off. "Twenty quid?"

Rose took it gratefully. "Do you mind? I'll pay you back."

"Call it a Christmas present," Mickey said, dismissing her IOU.

Rose shook her head. She knew it was Christmas—even if the Doctor hadn't told her that's when he was aiming for, everything from the weather to the red and green decorations to the brass band playing Christmas music in the distance made it obvious. But it just felt… weird.

"God, I'm all out of synch," she muttered. "You just forget about Christmas and things in the TARDIS. They don't exist." She thought back to all the festivals she'd been to in the last few months, some in Earth's past and some on alien planets. It made it hard to think in terms of her own planet's holiday. "You get sort of timeless."

"Oh, yeah, that's fascinating," Mickey said sarcastically, "because I love hearing stories about the TARDIS. Oh, go on Rose, tell us another one because I swear I could listen to it all day. TARDIS this, TARDIS that."

His lighthearted ribbing made her smile, for the first time since she'd watched the Doctor change. "Shut up."

"Oh, and one time the TARDIS landed in a big yellow garden full of balloons."

"I'm not like that!" she protested.

"Oh, you so are," he insisted.

"Mmm, must drive you mad," Rose teased as they reached the first market stalls. "I'm surprised you put up with me."

"Oh, that's the thing, isn't it? You can rely on me." Mickey pointed at himself. "I don't go changing my face."

"Yeah."

Rose squirmed; she hated it when Mickey made these veiled (or not-so-veiled) comments, trying to compete with the Doctor for her affection. Their relationship had been over the moment she'd stepped onto the TARDIS, and she'd taken care to make that clear when she'd seen him in Cardiff, but he still seemed to be hanging onto hope that things might change.

She looked for a way to change the subject, and it was as easy as saying the first thing that came to mind. "What if he's dying?"

Mickey spun around like he was ready to walk back to the bus stop and go home. "Okay."

Irritated now, Rose grabbed at his arm to hold him back. "Look, Mickey, I'm sorry if it bothers that I'm too worried about the Doctor to talk about anything else. I thought I watched him die earlier, Micks. I thought he was gone, and I just…" She pressed her lips together.

"Just let it be Christmas," he demanded, taking her hands and swinging them back and forth. "Can you do that? Just for a bit. You, and me, and Christmas. No Doctor, no bog monsters, no life or death."

Rose bit her lip. "That's really unfair, Mickey," she said quietly. "You're askin' me to forget that he's really sick."

"I'm askin' to spend the evening with my best girl without the entire conversation being dominated by Doctor," Mickey retorted.

Rose's stomach clenched. Mickey was definitely holding out hope that she would change her mind. "But I'm not your girl anymore, Micks," she told him, trying to keep her voice gentle.

And yet Mickey reared back, hurt on his face. "Then whose are you? The Doctor's?"

Rose opened her mouth to tell him she didn't belong to anyone but herself, but a sudden realisation distracted her. The brass band was following them. Instincts she'd honed in over a year of travelling with the Doctor tingled, and she looked around for a way out.

"Come on," she muttered, grabbing Mickey's hand and pulling him down the street, past the red stalls and the festive Christmas tree.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he argued, digging his heels into the pavement.

Rose rolled her eyes, then glanced over her shoulder and froze when she realised the musical ensemble was definitely following them. The music stopped suddenly, and the musicians lowered their instruments until they were holding them in a pose that seemed vaguely familiar.

When flames shot out of the bell of the trombone, Rose realised what it reminded her of—they were holding their instruments like guns. She grabbed Mickey and pulled him down behind the booths as the other Santas started shooting into the crowd.

From relative safety, Rose watched the shooters, hoping she was wrong in her assumption. She wasn't. "It's us! They're after us!"

Mickey clutched her hand as they ran from the Santas toward the bus stop. The firing tracked their movements though, and they nearly got caught in a huge blast that destroyed the large Christmas tree they were trying to get away from.

Rose dragged Mickey away from the market, away from the crowds. She didn't see the Santas when she glanced over her shoulder, but she wasn't going to hang around to see if they came after them.

"What's going on?" Mickey panted. "What've we done? Why are they after us?"

"Taxi!" Rose hollered as a black cab came into view. The car pulled to a stop against the kerb, and she pushed Mickey inside before climbing in after him.

"They're after the Doctor," Rose said, just barely holding back a comment about how she'd been right to be concerned about him. She gave the driver her address, and as soon as the car was moving, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled home.

"I can't even go shopping with you," Mickey muttered resentfully. "We get attacked by a brass band. Who're you phoning?" he asked, finally realising she wasn't replying to anything he said.

"My mum," Rose replied, biting back a curse when she got a busy signal. "Get off the phone!"

"Who were those Santa things?"

"I don't know." Sirens filled the night air, and Rose watched police cars and an ambulance race back in the direction they'd come from. "But think about it. They were after us. What's important about us? Well, nothing, except the one thing we've got tucked up in bed. The Doctor."

"I like that," Mickey grumbled. "Nothing's important about us, huh? It's always just the Doctor, isn't it?"

"Mickey, I don't have time for this!" Rose cried out. "Can you think of any other reason Santa would try to kill us with a trombone? Just… stop trying to compete with the Doctor long enough to be rational, yeah?"

The reprimand stunned Mickey into silence, and Rose let out a grateful breath.

The taxi dropped them off in the courtyard, and Rose tossed the twenty quid Mickey had given her at the driver before bolting toward the building. She took the stairs two at a time and burst through the door of the flat.

"Get off the phone!" she shouted, yanking the handset from her mum's hands.

"It's only Bev," Jackie protested. "She says hello."

"Bev?" Rose asked, then cut off the older woman's chatter. "Yeah. Look, it'll have to wait." She ended the call and set the phone down.

"Right, it's not safe," she told her mum, talking over her admonishment of her rude behaviour. "We've got to get out. Where can we go?"

Mickey had been nodding along, and he spoke up quickly. "My mate Stan, he'll put us up."

Rose scowled at him and shook her head. "That's only two streets away." _Doesn't he grasp the meaning of "away?"_ "What about Mo?" she asked her mum. "Where's she living now?"

"I don't know." Her mum shook her head quickly. "Peak District."

Rose nodded. Peak District. That was far enough away to be safe.

"Well, we'll go to cousin Mo's then."

Jackie stalked away from her. "No, it's Christmas Eve! We're not going anywhere!" She spun around and glared at Rose. "What're you babbling about?"

But Rose had spotted something more concerning than the possible threat from the Santas. "Mum. Where'd you get that tree?"

When she'd left to go shopping with Mickey, Jackie'd had the same white artificial tree set up that they'd used for years. Now, in its place was an elegant green tree, decorated in green and red balls.

"That's a new tree. Where'd you get it?"

Jackie looked at the tree, then back at Rose. "I thought it was you."

"How can it be me?" Rose asked, dread building in her gut.

"Well, you went shopping. There was a ring at the door, and there it was!" Jackie explained.

"No, that wasn't me."

Jackie's voice was quiet when she asked, "Then who was it?"

When the tree lit up by itself and started playing "Jingle Bells," Rose groaned. "Oh, you're kidding me." She pulled her mum behind her and stared the tree down.

The top, middle, and bottom of the tree started rotating around the trunk in different directions, slowly at first, then faster and faster, sending a strong wind across the room. Rose somehow was not surprised when it became moving across the room on its own, chopping through the coffee table like it was kindling.

Mickey pushed Rose and Jackie toward the door, then picked up a chair to ward the tree off with. "Get out! Go, go! Get out!"

Rose skidded to a halt in front of her mum's open bedroom door. "We've got to save the Doctor."

"What're you doing?" Jackie demanded from the front door.

"We can't just leave him."

Her mum opened her mouth to argue, but then they heard glass breaking in the living room. "Mickey!" she called out. Wood chips started flying, and Jackie yelled again. "Leave it! Get out! Get out!"

"Mickey!" Rose shouted from the Doctor's bedside.

"Get out of there!" Jackie ordered.

He finally dropped the chair and darted for the bedroom, much to Jackie's chagrin. "No, leave him. Just leave him!"

"Get in here!" Mickey ordered, and a moment later, Rose heard the scraping sound of furniture being dragged across the floor.

She crouched by the Doctor and took his hand. "Doctor, wake up!" He didn't respond, and the creepy sounding Christmas music from the tree kept getting closer and closer. Rose spun around and fumbled in his coat pocket, retrieving the sonic screwdriver. Maybe if she put it in his hand, the memory of all the times he'd used it to save the day would wake him up.

Mickey and her mum were fighting to hold the wardrobe up against the door, and Rose knew they only had seconds before the tree chopped through the few barriers keeping them safe. She wrapped his limp fingers around the sonic and looked hopefully at his face, but nothing happened.

The tree tore through the door and into the room. "I'm going to get killed by a Christmas tree!" her mum shrieked as she cowered against the wall.

Rose looked down at the man who'd saved her life so many times before. There was only one more thing she could think of that might wake him up.

She got down on her knees by the bed and leaned close. "Help me," she whispered into his ear.

As if those were the magic words, the Doctor sat bolt upright in bed and pointed the sonic screwdriver at the tree. The murderous Christmas decoration exploded a moment later.

"Remote control," he mused, then swung his legs out of the bed and reached for the dressing gown. "But who's controlling it?"

Rose followed the Doctor out onto the balcony. Down in the courtyard, three of the Santas from before looked up at them, one of them holding a remote control in his hands.

"That's them," Mickey said. "What are they?"

Rose hushed him, seeing the hard look on the Doctor's face. He slowly raised the sonic until it was aimed directly at the Santas, and she wasn't surprised when they backed up, then beamed away a moment later.

"They've just gone," Mickey said in disbelief. "What kind of rubbish were they? I mean, no offence," he told the Doctor, "but they're not much cop if a sonic screwdriver's going to scare them off."

"Pilot fish," the Doctor said.

Rose blinked. "What?"

"They were just pilot fish." He gagged and doubled over, just like he had before in the TARDIS.

Rose crouched down in front of him, her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?

"You woke me up too soon," he grunted. "I'm still regenerating. I'm bursting with energy." As if on cue, he breathed out a cloud of golden energy. "You see? The pilot fish could smell it a million miles away. So they eliminate the defence, that's you lot, and they carry me off. They could run their batteries on me for a couple of—Ow!" His back arched and he spun around, resting against the railing now.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" Jackie said, and Rose was just the tiniest bit satisfied that her mum finally understood something was seriously wrong.

"My head!" the Doctor moaned. "I'm having a neural implosion. I need—"

"What do you need?" Jackie asked.

"I need—"

"Say it. Tell me, tell me, tell me," she rambled, not giving the Doctor a moment to get a word in edgewise.

"I need—"

"Painkillers?"

"I need—"

"Do you need aspirin?"

Rose recoiled—aspirin would kill him!

"I need—"

"Codeine? Paracetamol? Oh, I don't know, Pepto-Bismol?"

"I need—"

"Liquid paraffin. Vitamin C? Vitamin D? Vitamin E?"

"I need—"

"Is it food? Something simple. Bowl of soup. A nice bowl of soup? Soup and a sandwich? Soup and a little ham sandwich?"

"I need you to shut up."

"Oh, he hasn't changed that much, has he?" Jackie muttered.

Rose had been watching the entire conversation in mute horror. This man, wracked by spasms of pain and too sick to be able to tell them what he needed, he couldn't be the Doctor. Where was all the superior biology he boasted about? She'd always thought the Doctor was nearly invincible.

The Doctor grunted again and threw himself back against the wall, landing right next to Rose. "We haven't got much time," he panted. "If there's pilot fish, then—" He pulled a piece of fruit out of his pocket. "Why's there an apple in my dressing gown?"

"Oh, that's Howard," Jackie said. "Sorry."

"He keeps apples in his dressing gown?"

Jackie nodded. "He gets hungry."

"What, he gets hungry in his sleep?"

"Sometimes."

The Doctor cried out again and collapsed all the way to the ground. "Argh! Brain collapsing." He groped around until he found Rose's hand. "The pilot fish. The pilot fish mean—" He gasped in pain and squeezed her hand tight, a panicked look on his face as he tried to force the words out. "Something… something… something is coming."

The words sent a wave of trepidation through Rose, which was only made worse when the Doctor passed out. Something was coming, and the Doctor wouldn't be able to stop it.

Rose tried to heft the Doctor to his feet, and her mum quickly took his other arm. "Here, let me help you, sweetheart." Together, the Tyler women moved the unconscious Time Lord back into bed.

The Doctor had broken out in a cold sweat by the time they had him lying down. Jackie disappeared for a second and returned with a cold cloth. "You need to try to get his fever to break," she told Rose. "Maybe we should give him some aspirin."

"Can't," Rose said, brushing damp hair from the Doctor's forehead and resting the cloth there. "He's deathly allergic—it'd kill him." She didn't say anything more, and after a moment, she was vaguely aware that her mum left the room.

Rose sat by the Doctor, wiping the sweat from his brow. She couldn't decide what to think about this new man. On the one hand, he had two hearts and he knew about their past. The kinds of things he'd said about the pilot fish had certainly sounded like Doctor-like things to know. But then here he was, lying in a bed in her flat, pale and vulnerable. The Doctor had never looked so weak. She needed him to be strong.

His shivering got worse, and Rose climbed onto the bed next to him so she could more easily take care of him. When he whimpered in his sleep, she shifted carefully so she was sitting with her back against the headboard, then she pulled his head into her lap.

"I've got you, Doctor," she whispered. "Stay with me, yeah? Come on, you can beat this." He didn't respond, and Rose screwed her eyes closed to fight back the tears that threatened. She was stronger than that—she had to be stronger than that.

The front door opened and shut, and she glanced up just as Mickey walked past the room with his laptop in hand. His jaw tightened when he saw the way she was sitting with the Doctor, and Rose had the fleeting hope that maybe this whole disaster would finally convince him that their relationship was over.

The Doctor shuddered violently, and Rose shifted her free hand to press against his chest. The right heart was still beating, though the pulse seemed a little erratic, but she couldn't feel anything on the left side of his chest.

"Doctor, you've gotta wake up," she pleaded. "Who's going to take me to Barcelona if you don't, or back to Insala for the spring festival? You promised, remember? To make up for landing in the middle of monsoon season last time?"

His tremors seemed to ease, and Rose kept up a rambling monologue of all the reasons the Doctor couldn't leave. Three words hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. She'd heard too many stories of people waking up from a coma with clear memories of things people had said to them while they were unconscious. If she ever told him that, it would be after she knew he still wanted her.

A voice in the doorway startled her, and she looked up. "I brought you a cuppa," her mum said, crossing the room to set it down on the bedside table. "How's he doing? Any change?"

Rose picked up the tea and took a sip before shaking her head. "He's worse. Just one heart beating."

"I found it!" Mickey called out from the living room. He appeared in the doorway a moment later. "Pilot fish. They're scavengers, like the Doctor said. Harmless—they're tiny. But the point is, the little fish swim alongside the big fish."

"Do you mean like sharks?" Rose asked, rubbing at her forehead. Her mum patted her arm, then walked back into the living room.

Mickey nodded. "Great big sharks. So, what the Doctor means is, we had them," he said, tilting his head toward the courtyard where they'd seen the Santas, "now we get that."

"Something is coming," Rose murmured. In her lap, the Doctor tensed again, picking up on her unease. "How close?" she asked, resuming the gentle stroking of his temples.

This time, the only reaction her familiarity with the Doctor got from Mickey was resignation. "There's no way of telling," he told her, "but the pilot fish don't swim far from their daddy."

Her hand stilled. "So, it's close?"

Her mum's voice interrupted them. "Rose, you need to come see this!"

Rose and Mickey looked at each other, then Rose slid out from underneath the Doctor and entered the living room just in time to see static clear on the telly, revealing a face that looked like a goat's skull with deep set red eyes.

The alien growled, and they all jumped back in surprise. "The face of an alien life form was transmitted live tonight on BBC1," the newscaster said.

"I think we've found the shark," Rose said soberly.

oOoOoOoOo

In the bedroom, the Doctor moaned pitifully. Rose bit her lip, looking from the busted door to the television screen.

"I'll go sit with him," her mum offered. "You and Mickey figure out what you can about these aliens, all right Rose?"

It only took the government fifteen minutes to release a cover story, but Rose knew the face they'd seen in that transmission wasn't kids with masks. That was an alien, though not one she'd ever seen before.

"Rose." Mickey had returned to his computer as soon as the transmission had ended, and Rose stood up to look over his shoulder when he called her name. "Take a look," he said, nodding at the radar image he'd picked up. "I've got access to the military. They're tracking a spaceship. It's big, it's fast, and it's coming this way."

"Coming for what, though? The Doctor?" she asked, thinking about what he'd said about the pilot fish feeding off his energy.

"I don't know," Mickey said. "Maybe it's coming for all of us."

The radar image disappeared, replaced by an image of four aliens like the one they'd seen before. They started talking, and Rose was more frightened by her inability to understand them than she was by their savage appearance.

"Have you seen them before?" Mickey asked.

"No." She listened a moment longer, hoping she just wasn't tuned into the TARDIS or something, but the alien sounds continued without translation.

"I don't understand what they're saying," she said as the transmission ended. "The TARDIS translates alien languages inside my head, all the time, wherever I am."

Mickey glanced at her, then back at the blank monitor. "So, why isn't it doing it now?"

"I don't know," she said, though she had a horrible suspicion she did. "Must be the Doctor. Like he's part of the circuit, and he's, he's broken."

Rose pushed herself to her feet and paced the living room, playing anxiously with her hair as she tried to decide what to do. This was exactly the kind of situation she and the Doctor were used to, but she didn't have the Doctor today. Could she face the invading aliens on her own? _Not without being able to understand what they're saying,_ she realised. _Not to mention that I don't even know how I'd get there._

She walked over to the bedroom and looked helplessly at the Doctor. "How is he?" she asked her mum, even though she could tell at a glance that he was only getting worse, his breaths coming in gasps and pants and his pale skin clammy with sweat.

"His breathing's laboured," Jackie answered, wiping the sweat away from his eyes.

"Probably because he's only got one heart working," Rose said. "Without his cardiovascular system working properly, he's having problems breathing." She clenched her hands into fists. "What if he dies, Mum?"

"Rose Marion Tyler, I don't want to hear another word like that come out of your mouth," her mum said severely. "You were the one who told me that your dad wouldn't just give up, so don't you dare give up on the Doctor."

Rose blinked back tears and went back to pacing the living room. Mickey kept her updated on what the military had learned about the aliens—the Sycorax, they learned when someone finally managed to translate the message.

"They will die?" Rose repeated.

Mickey frowned. "That's what it says. Why?"

"Well, it's kinda odd, isn't it?" Rose said. "I mean, they're talking to humans, so why not say, 'You will die?' Unless…" She pursed her lips. "It sounds like they have hostages."

Mickey looked at his computer and shook his head. "It'd be all over UNIT's secure website if the aliens had taken hostages."

"Yeah…" But Rose couldn't dislodge the feeling that they were missing something.

Lost in thought, she wandered back to the bedroom. Her mum had fallen asleep with her head resting on the bed. The Doctor looked a little better than he had earlier, but he was still peaky and unconscious. Rose sat down on the other side of the bed and brushed her knuckles against his cheek. The crease in his forehead smoothed out, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

Rose jolted in surprise at the familiar reaction. The Doctor had always relaxed like that when she'd touched him. "You're really him," she whispered.

The feeling of abandonment she'd been fighting all day faded. The Doctor hadn't left her, he was just ill—and she wouldn't be upset with him for that.

A few minutes later, she felt eyes on her back. "What do you need, Mickey?" she asked without turning around.

"You need to take a break, babe," he said. Rose looked at him incredulously, but he crossed his arms and stared her down. "I mean it. You've been fussing over him all day, and then worrying about those aliens. Go take a shower and get something to eat. We'll still be here when you're done."

"Unless the aliens invade," Rose said darkly, but she headed for the loo anyway. Until Mickey had said something, she hadn't realised she'd been wearing this outfit for over 24 hours. Suddenly, she could feel dust and grime sitting on her skin, and she wrinkled her nose. The world would still be there when she got out of the shower. Hopefully.

oOoOoOoOo

Just after dawn, Rose heard voices in the hall outside the flat. She stuck her head outside and saw one of the neighbours chasing her husband, wearing nothing but her dressing gown and slippers.

"Sandra?"

The woman spun around, a frantic expression on her face. "He won't listen. He's just walking. He won't stop walking!" Sandra turned back and continued to follow Jason. "There's this… sort of light thing. Jason? Stop it right now! Please, Jason, just stop."

Rose and Mickey looked at each other, then around the Estate. It was immediately evident that Jason wasn't the only one who'd been… possessed, or whatever had happened. They followed Sandra and Jason up the stairs to the roof.

As one, the people walked right to the edge of the roof and stood there, poised to jump. Like Sandra, their loved ones grabbed at them, trying to get them to come down, but they wouldn't be moved.

"What do we do?" asked Mickey.

A chill wind blew across the roof. Rose looked out over London and remembered the last time she'd been up here. The Doctor had been with her, and together, they'd watched an alien shuttle crash into Big Ben.

Then she remembered the look on his face the next day when she'd given him permission to do whatever he needed to do to save the planet—even if it meant she would die. He'd told her later how much her faith in him had meant, and Rose took a deep breath and drew upon that same faith.

"We wait," she said. "The Doctor will wake up in time to save all of us, so for now, we wait and we do whatever we need to to make sure there's still a planet to save when he wakes up."

"You really love him, don't you?" Mickey asked dully.

"He's still the Doctor," Rose said, and that was the only answer she needed to give. Some facts were just so constant, they didn't need to be explained. Rose Tyler loved the Doctor—no matter what he looked like. That was a fact.

 _Does the Doctor love Rose Tyler, though?_ she wondered, before shoving the thought away. That didn't matter right now.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose frowned at the telly during Harriet's speech. Whatever the Prime Minister was going to say, it couldn't fix this. But then she heard a familiar name, and she snapped to attention.

"Doctor, if you're out there, we need you. I don't know what to do," Harriet continued. "If you can hear me, Doctor. If anyone knows the Doctor, if anyone can find him, the situation has never been more desperate. Help us. Please, Doctor. Help us. God help us."

"Well, are you going to call then?"

Rose looked up at her mum, standing in the hallway with her hands on her hips. "And say what?" she asked. "The Doctor's lying unconscious on my mum's bed. But I swear he'll get better in time to help us."

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "You really believe in him that much, then?"

"He's never let me down, Mum. He's always come through."

Shattering glass drove them to the floor for cover. Rose turned and looked around the flat; it was littered with broken glass from every single window, broken in one instant.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Jackie yelled, but Rose was already chasing Mickey down the stairs so they could get a better view of what was happening.

Standing in front of the TARDIS watching a spaceship slowly move into place over London, Rose started to make an escape plan. No one else had a place they could safely hide from these aliens, but if the TARDIS could keep out the assembled hordes of Genghis Khan, then it could keep out the Sycorax.

Rose ran back inside and started giving orders to Mickey and her mum. "Mickey, we're going to carry him. Mum, get your stuff, and get some food. We're going."

"Where to?" Mickey asked.

"The TARDIS," Rose said firmly as she grabbed the Doctor's dressing gown. "It's the only safe place on Earth."

"What're we going to do in there?" her mum asked incredulously.

"Hide."

"Is that it?" she demanded.

Rose dropped the dressing gown and pointed out the window. "Until the Doctor wakes up, yeah! Mum, look in the sky. There's a great, big, alien invasion and I don't know what to do, all right? I've travelled with him, and I've seen all that stuff, but when I'm stuck at home, I'm useless. So right now, that means the most important thing I can do is make sure the Doctor lives long enough to get this sorted. If that means running and hiding, then I'm sorry—that's what we're gonna do."

Her mum left the room, and Rose gestured for Mickey to help her with the Doctor. "Oh, lift him up." Together, they managed to get the Time Lord sitting up and wrapped in the navy blue dressing gown.

This time, Mickey grabbed his feet and Rose took his arms. As they shuffled out the door and towards the stairs, the Doctor's head lolled against her stomach. "Good thing the new you is such a skinny bloke," she muttered as they walked through the door with the outline of a Christmas tree carved into it. "I don't think I could have carried the old you, even with help."

Jackie followed them out of the flat, burdened by half a dozen or more shopping bags. One of them fell just outside the door, and she bent over to pick it up.

"Mum, will you just leave that stuff and give us a hand?" Rose demanded.

"It's food!" Jackie protested. "You said we need food."

"Just leave it!"

Rose lost sight of her mother as she and Mickey turned the corner into the stairwell. They worked silently to get the Doctor down three flights of stairs, then across the glass-littered courtyard until they were at the TARDIS doors.

At the TARDIS, Rose fumbled to unlock the door without dropping the Doctor, then quickly adjusted her grip on him when the door was open, letting Mickey push inside first. She rolled her eyes when she spotted her mum, still carrying all the food, dropping a bag yet again as she stared up at the spaceship.

"No chance you could fly this thing?" Mickey asked as they circled the console.

"Not anymore, no."

"Well, you did it before."

"I know," said Rose as they lowered the Doctor onto the grating, "but it's sort of been wiped out of my head, like it's forbidden." She frowned, a hazy feeling of fingers brushing against her temple teasing the edges of her memory. "Try that again and I think the Universe rips in half."

Mickey nodded. "Ah, better not, then."

"Maybe not," Rose agreed, her voice droll.

"So, what do we do? Just sit here?" he asked.

Rose nodded firmly. "Until the Doctor wakes up, yeah."

"Right, here we go," her mum said, pouring something out of a thermos. "Nice cup of tea."

Rose gratefully took the proffered cup. "Ta," she said, closing her eyes and humming when she sipped at it. Her mum annoyed her to death sometimes, but she did make the best tea.

Jackie nodded firmly. "You drink that and look after himself. I'll get the rest of the food."

"Tea," Mickey said after she left. "Like we're having a picnic while the world comes to an end. Very British."

Rose drank her tea and circled the console, hoping to see something she could use to wake the Doctor up. Tools and devices on the TARDIS tended to appear when and where you needed them, but today, she didn't find any new gadgets lying out.

Mickey picked up on her mood and quickly changed the subject. "How does this thing work?" Rose glanced back and realised he was looking at the scanner. "If this picks up TV, maybe we could see what's going on out there. Maybe we've surrendered. What do you do to it?"

Rose joined him by the scanner. "I don't know. It sort of tunes itself."

They hit a few buttons, but that only resulted in the circular symbols on the screen spinning and redrawing.

"Maybe it's a distress signal," Mickey suggested.

Rose shrugged. "I don't know. Could be, I suppose."

He shot her a sidelong glance. "So we're just going to sit here, in the TARDIS, until the Doctor wakes up. That's your grand plan."

"Yep."

"What if he doesn't wake up though?"

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. "You don't hafta stay," she retorted.

"Nah, where else would I go? Mind," Mickey said, a cheeky note in his voice, "stuck in here with your mum's cooking."

Rose sat upright. "Where is she?" Mickey shrugged, and she set her tea down and moved toward the door. "I'd better give her a hand. It might start raining missiles out there."

"Tell her anything from a tin, that's fine," Mickey called out.

"Why don't you tell her yourself?"

"I'm not that brave," he said quietly.

"Oh, I don't know." Rose grinned at him, then backed out of the TARDIS.

She didn't realise her mistake until a huge hand grabbed her by the neck and spun her around. Looking around at the inside of the Sycorax ship, Rose let out a scream.

"Get off! Get off me!" Rose demanded, straining towards the TARDIS.

Mickey ran out after her, then froze in shock when he saw where they were. Behind him, the doors to the TARDIS were wide open.

"The door!" Rose cried. "Close the door!"

She watched with her heart in her throat as he ran back to the ship, slamming the door shut just before a Sycorax reached it. Furious at being thwarted, the alien grabbed Mickey instead and dragged him forward.

The Sycorax leader roared victoriously as the two of them were pushed towards the centre of the room. Rose looked around at the huge gathering of aliens, and her heart sank. Earth didn't stand a chance against this many armed invaders. She threw a glance over her shoulder at the TARDIS. _Please wake up soon, Doctor._

The hand holding her arm suddenly shoved Rose to the right, and she landed right in the arms of a familiar woman. "Rose," Harriet breathed, and Rose wrapped her arms around her. "Rose! I've got you. My Lord. Oh, my precious thing. The Doctor, is he with you?" she whispered in Rose's ear.

"Yeah," Rose answered, even though her conscience pricked at the slight falsehood. "He'll be here soon. We've just gotta stall for time."

Harriet let go of her, and the humans all faced the Sycorax leader. He spoke again in that grating language, and Rose realised with a knot in her stomach that he was pointing at her as he walked towards them.

The man with Harriet started to read a translation off a hand-held device. "The yellow girl. She has the clever blue box. Therefore, she speaks for your planet."

"But she can't," protested Harriet.

Rose was finally in familiar territory. She'd traveled with the Doctor for over a year; she'd seen him talk his way out of situations like this dozens of times.

"Yeah, I can."

"Don't you dare," Mickey ordered, a catch in his voice.

Rose took a step forward. "I said it, didn't I? This will give the Doctor time to get here."

Harriet grabbed at her arm. "They'll kill you."

Rose shook her free. "Never stopped him." She straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin up, then stepped closer to the arena filled with aliens. A rumbling filled the room, and she wondered if they were amused or impressed by her boldness.

Looking around at her audience, Rose wracked her memory for things she'd heard the Doctor say in similar situations. "I, er, I address the Sycorax… according to Article Fifteen of the Shadow Proclamation," she began, her hands clenched in fists at her side. "I command you to leave this world with all the authority of the… Slitheen Parliament of Raxacoricofallapatorius."

The Sycorax leader had looked almost worried for a moment when she mentioned the Shadow Proclamation, but she could tell she'd lost him with the Slitheen. Still, she couldn't give up, so she continued to stammer out references to her travels with the Doctor, hoping she would stumble onto something that would convince them to leave.

"And er… the Gelth Confederacy as ah… sanctioned by the Mighty Jagrafess and, oh, the Daleks!" she added, pointing for emphasis. "Now, leave this planet in peace! In peace," she concluded, her fear finally seeping into her voice at the end.

Her frightened gaze darted around the room. The Sycorax didn't look particularly intimidated, an impression borne out a moment later when the entire group burst into laughter.

The leader started talking, and behind her, Harriet's assistant read the translation. "You are very, very funny. And now you're going to die."

"Leave her alone!" Harriet yelled, at the same time as Mickey shouted, "Don't touch her!" Rose heard them try to run toward her, but a moment later, she heard the scraping sound of their feet dragging across the ground as they were forced back.

Rose stared at the leader, listening to the translation of his words. "Did you think you were clever with your stolen words? We are the Sycorax; we stride the darkness." He leaned in Rose's face and hissed in her ear, startling a squeak of fright from her.

"Next to us you are but a wailing child. If you are the best your planet can offer as a champion—"

"Then your world will be gutted—" the Sycorax said, and the translator echoed him.

"And your people enslaved."

The translator paused. "Hold on, that's English."

"He's talking English," Harriet agreed.

Hope grew in Rose's heart. "You're talking English."

"I would never dirty my tongue with your primitive bile," the Sycorax leader said.

Rose backed up and pointed at him. "That's English. Can you hear English?" she asked, looking around at the other three humans.

"Yeah, that's English," Mickey said.

"Definitely English."

The Sycorax raised his fists in the air angrily. "I speak only Sycoraxic!"

"If I can hear English, then it's being translated," Rose said slowly. "Which means it's working. Which means—"

She turned to look at the TARDIS, her heart racing. The doors opened slowly, and the Doctor stood there, still dressed in his striped pyjamas and blue dressing gown.

He raised an eyebrow in the sexiest smirk Rose had ever seen. "Did you miss me?"


	3. Chapter 3

Timepetalsprompts holiday bingo: mistletoe

The Doctor's rest wasn't peaceful. His unconscious mind created dozens of scenarios where Rose was injured or worse, or the TARDIS was taken, or they were all lost to some alien race. Somewhere deep inside his mind, his conscious self fought to get free, but the weakness of his body kept him trapped.

Then a familiar fragrance teased his nostrils, and he breathed deep, tilting his head back so he could get more of it. The rich, floral aroma of tea filled the air, and the tannins began their healing work.

His left heart started to beat again, and he took his first easy breath since Rose had woken him up the night before. Even unconscious, he could feel excess regeneration energy leave his body as he exhaled.

The TARDIS pressed insistently on his mind, pulling him back to consciousness. _Rose_ , she reminded him. _Rose is in trouble._

The Doctor's eyes fluttered open, and he stared up at the coral ceiling for a moment before jumping to his feet. He swayed a moment, not used to being under his own power, but quickly regained his balance.

"All right, old girl," he muttered, pulling the scanner around. "Let's see what our jeopardy friendly human has gotten herself into today."

He winced when the scanner flicked on. "Ooh, Sycorax," he muttered as the ugly alien sneered in Rose's face.

"If you are the best your planet can offer as a champion," the leader growled, "then your world will be gutted, and your people enslaved."

Anger blazed through the Doctor, and he had to fight back against the protective instinct that urged him to forget all about his own rules. This alien had threatened both his favourite planet and his favourite human—not a wise move.

He was vaguely aware, as he walked to the doors, that the TARDIS was translating for the humans again. Over the scanner, he heard Rose say, "If I can hear English, then it's being translated. Which means it's working. Which means—"

The Doctor pushed the doors open and smirked at Rose as he stepped out onto the spaceship. "Did you miss me?" he asked, the words carrying more meaning after his regeneration than they usually would.

Her bright smile did more to heal the raw emotional edges left by her reaction to his regeneration than almost anything else could have done. If nothing else, Rose was excited to see him. He could work with that.

The Sycorax leader cracked an electric whip at the Doctor. He rolled his eyes at the cliched weapon, even as he caught it around his forearm and yanked it out of his hands.

"You could have someone's eye out with that," the Doctor chastised, advancing on the Sycorax.

"How dare!" In retaliation, the Sycorax raised his staff, but the Doctor yanked it out of his hands before he could strike, broke it in two over his knee, and tossed both weapons onto the floor.

"You just can't get the staff," he quipped. "Now, you, just wait. I'm busy." The Doctor turned back around to the four humans, three of whom he knew. "Mickey, hello! And Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it's like This Is Your Life."

Rose was staring at him, and he beamed down at her. "Tea! That's all I needed, a good cup of tea! Superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for healing the synapses," he told her, wiggling a finger by his temple.

"Now, first thing's first." All the humour disappeared from his voice, and he stared at Rose. "Be honest, how do I look?"

Confusion crossed her face, and he supposed it wasn't a question one was used to answering. "Ah… different."

"Good different or bad different?" the Doctor pressed, needing to know what he looked like, and even more importantly, if she approved of what he looked like.

Rose shrugged. "Just different."

"Am I ginger?" he asked, to cover up his desperation to know what she thought.

Rose looked up at his hair and shook her head. "No, you're just sort of brown," she whispered, wiggling her fingers over the top of her head.

The Doctor groaned and started walking away from Rose. "Oh, I wanted to be ginger! I've never been ginger." He turned around and pointed at her. "And you, Rose Tyler! You thought I was a Slitheen—did you really think they would fit into this body?" Her shocked hurt registered just as he finished the sentence, and he dropped the finger. "Oh, that's rude. That's the sort of man I am now, am I? Rude. Rude and not ginger."

"I'm sorry," Harriet interrupted. "Who is this?"

The Doctor blinked. Oh, why was this so difficult for humans to grasp? "I'm the Doctor."

At the same time, Rose said, "He's the Doctor."

Harriet looked back and forth between the two of them. "But what happened to my Doctor? Or is it a title that's just passed on?"

The Doctor walked towards her. "I'm him. I'm literally him. Same man, new face. Well, new everything."

"But you can't be." Harriet looked him up and down and shook her head.

"Harriet Jones." The Doctor knew exactly what he could say to convince her. "We were trapped in Downing Street and the one thing that scared you wasn't the aliens, it wasn't the war, it was the thought of your mother being on her own."

"Oh, my God."

The Doctor leaned towards her, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. "Did you win the election?"

She ducked her head slightly and grinned. "Landslide majority."

"If I might interrupt," the Sycorax said, sounding more than a little impatient.

The Doctor smiled congenially and started walking towards him. "Yes, sorry. Hello, big fellow."

"Who exactly are you?"

"Well, that's the question," the Doctor said, speaking through his teeth.

"I demand to know who you are!"

"I don't know!" the Doctor bellowed. That seemed to shut the Sycorax up, and the Doctor took advantage of the moment to launch into a ramble. "See, there's the thing. I'm the Doctor, but beyond that, I just don't know." He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked around. "I literally do not know who I am. It's all untested. Am I funny? Am I sarcastic? Sexy?" He winked at Rose, and gleefully took note of the flush that spread over her face.

There was something going on behind the Sycorax leader, and the Doctor used his rambling as a cover to get a closer look. "Right old misery? Life and soul? Right handed? Left handed? A gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor? A liar? A nervous wreck? I mean, judging by the evidence, I've certainly got a gob." He looked at the controls behind him and grinned crazily. "And how am I going to react when I see this?" he asked, pointing at the setup. "A great big threatening button." The Doctor chuckled and jogged up the steps, aware that everyone's gaze was focused on him. "A great big threatening button which must not be pressed under any circumstances, am I right? Let me guess. It's some sort of control matrix, hmm? Hold on, what's feeding it?"

He bent down and opened up the door in the pillar. "And what've we got here?" The controls for the control unit fed directly into a small pot of bubbling liquid. The Doctor dipped the tip of his finger into it, coming back with a bit of dark red liquid. "Blood?" He licked it carefully. "Yeah, definitely blood. Human blood. A Positive, with just a dash of iron."

The iron and other minerals in the blood hit his new tastebuds, and the Doctor smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to get ride of the flavour. He grimaced and wiped the remaining blood off his finger.

"But that means…" The Doctor quickly put everything together. "Blood control. Blood control! Oh, I haven't seen blood control for years. You're controlling all the A Positives."

 _And they've convinced the humans that if they don't do as they're told, the A Positives will all die._

The Doctor rocked back on his heels. "Which leaves us with a great big stinking problem," he said, speaking through gritted teeth again. "Because I really don't know who I am. I don't know when to stop. So if I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever, ever be pressed, then I just want to do this."

He smacked the button, hard, and all the humans in the room protested loudly.

"You killed them!" accused Harriet's aide.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the Sycorax. "What do you think, big fellow? Are they dead?"

"We allow them to live," the alien leader said, his patience obviously wearing thin.

"Allow?" scoffed the Doctor. "You've no choice. I mean, that's all blood control is." He walked away from the control matrix, scratching at his ear as he went. "A cheap bit of voodoo. Scares the pants off you, but that's as far as it goes. It's like hypnosis. You can hypnotise someone to walk like a chicken or sing like Elvis. You can't hypnotise them to death. Survival instinct's too strong."

"Blood control was just one form of conquest," the Sycorax leader countered. "I can summon the armada and take this world by force."

"Well, yeah, you could, yeah, you could do that, of course you could. But why? Look at these people," the Doctor said, pointing to Rose, Mickey, Harriet, and her aide. "These human beings. Consider their potential. From the day they arrive on the planet and blinking step into the sun, there is more to see than can ever be seen. More to do than… No, hold on." The Doctor cut himself off and stared at the ground for a moment. "Sorry, that's _The Lion King_." Clearly, this regeneration was a bit cheeky—not that he'd ever really been otherwise. He pushed away from the rock fixture he'd been leaning on and approached the Sycorax. "But the point still stands. Leave them alone!"

"Or what?" the leader said, his voice menacing.

"Or…" The Doctor grabbed the sword off the Sycorax standing next to him and ran towards the TARDIS, brandishing the weapon when he reached an open space. "I challenge you."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows and looked around the room when the entire company of Sycorax burst in raucous laughter. "Oh, that struck a chord. Am I right that the sanctified rules of combat still apply?" he asked as he stripped off his dressing gown.

The leader drew his own sword and strode towards the Doctor. "You stand as this world's champion."

"Thank you. I've no idea who I am, but you just summed me up." The Doctor knew exactly where Rose was without looking, and he tossed the dressing gown to her while keeping his gaze focused on his opponent. His arms unencumbered by the extra clothing, he raised the sword. "So, you accept my challenge? Or are you just a cranak pel casacree salvak?" he asked, swearing at the Sycorax in his native language.

The Sycorax hissed in anger and raised his sword up by the hilt, blade pointing at the ground. The other Sycorax, mirrored the gesture, and after the Doctor copied it, the two combatants knelt in front of each other.

"For the planet?" the Sycorax leader demanded.

"For the planet," the Doctor agreed.

His opponent rose to his feet in one fluid motion, holding his sword at the ready. The Doctor tried to mimic the action, but he wasn't as practiced. His hearts pounded in his chest; he was far from inexperienced, but he didn't have the combat experience his opponent clearly possessed.

He had something better though—he had Rose Tyler, believing in him. Believing he was the Doctor, and believing he could get planet Earth out of this mess. As their swords clashed for the first time, the Doctor let that belief strengthen him, just like it always did.

The first attack pushed him back against the TARDIS, but didn't knock him off his feet or force him to drop his sword. He pulled his blade away from the enemy sword and twisted his wrists to bring it back down beside him.

His gaze drifted over to Rose and Mickey, watching wide-eyed. Rose nodded slightly, and the Doctor straightened his shoulders and turned back to the Sycorax, drawing a deep breath and then rushing at him.

The Sycorax spun out of the way and swung his own sword at the Doctor, and that began the intricate dance of swordplay. When one particularly hard blow knocked the Doctor's feet out from underneath him, Rose shouted, "Look out!" as the Sycorax rushed at him.

"Oh, yeah, that helps," the Doctor said sarcastically as he got back to his feet. "Wouldn't have thought of that otherwise, thanks." A voice in the back of his head chided him for being rude, but he ignored it and ran through the crowd of Sycorax warriors to the tunnel leading to the ship's outside deck.

"Bit of fresh air?" the Doctor suggested as he slammed the button and ran through the door. The blue sky and bright sunshine were a welcome change from the gloomy interior of the spaceship, and with a bit of luck, the variable winds might just give him a bit of an advantage.

The Sycorax leader pressed hard, and the Doctor was forced to retreat against his fierce blows. He managed to block every one, but he was forced to block and parry, never attacking himself.

There was a lull in the fighting, and the Doctor dropped his guard as he contemplated what his next move should be. The Sycorax quickly took advantage of that mistake, swinging around and smacking him in the face with his gauntlet.

The Doctor stumbled back, touching his nose gently with his free hand. Rose took a half step towards him, and he held up a hand to ward her off.

"Stay back!" he ordered. "Invalidate the challenge and he wins the planet."

The Sycorax lifted his sword in the air and swung it 'round, building momentum for his next attack. The Doctor rushed at him while he was still mid-rotation, hoping to cut him off and negate that advantage. Their swords clashed hard in the air above his head, and the Doctor was shoved back a moment later.

In a series of motions too quick for him to register until the deed was done, the Doctor was knocked to his back with his sword arm dangling over the edge of the ship. The Sycorax quickly took advantage of the moment and sliced his hand off.

The Doctor watched in stunned disbelief as his arm fell to the Earth. "You cut my hand off."

The Sycorax threw his hands in the air in a gesture of victory. "Ya! Sycorax!"

The Doctor slowly got to his feet, the sensation of losing a body part leaving him just a little bit dizzy, even though he could feel his body repairing the damage already.

"And now I know what sort of man I am," he said. "I'm lucky. Because quite by chance, I'm still within the first fifteen hours of my regeneration cycle, which means I've got just enough residual cellular energy to do this." He held up his right arm and felt the warm tingle of regeneration energy as a new hand grew in the place of the one he had lost.

"Witchcraft," the Sycorax growled.

"Time Lord," corrected the Doctor solemnly.

"Doctor!"

He spun towards Rose just in time to catch the sword she tossed him. "Oh, so I'm still the Doctor, then?" he asked, needing to hear her say it, even though she'd said so while he was unconscious.

"No arguments from me!" she answered, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

The Doctor swung the sword a bit, and already he could tell a difference in the way it felt in this new hand. "Want to know the best bit?" he asked the Sycorax. "This new hand? It's a fightin' hand!" he said, in a poor Texan accent.

He advanced quickly on the Sycorax, and this time, the alien invader didn't stand a chance against the flurry of blows the Doctor managed. Slowly, the fight moved towards the edge of the ship, and finally, the Doctor grabbed the hilt of the Sycorax's sword in his bare hand and took it from him, then rammed both hilts into his gut.

The Sycorax grunted as the wind was knocked out of him, and the Doctor hit him in the stomach again before sweeping his feet out from underneath him. His opponent landed on his back, with his chest and head dangling high above London.

The Doctor rested the tip of his sword against the Sycorax's neck. "I win."

The Sycorax raised his head to glare at him. "Then kill me."

"I'll spare your life if you'll take this champion's command. Leave this planet, and never return," the Doctor ordered. "What do you say?"

"Yes."

But the Doctor wasn't naive enough to simply take him at his word. "Swear on the blood of your species," he demanded, through gritted teeth.

There was a longer pause this time, then the Sycorax nodded. "I swear."

The Doctor felt his mood shift almost immediately, and he added mercurial to the things he knew about the new him. "There we are, then," he said almost cheerfully as he backed away from the Sycorax. "Thanks for that. Cheers, big fellow." He stuck his sword into the soft deck and walked over to the four humans.

"Bravo!" Harriet cheered, applauding for him.

Rose beamed up at him. "That says it all," she said, her voice just slightly breathless. "Bravo!" she cried as she ran to him.

"Ah, not bad for a man in his jim-jams." The Doctor smiled and let Rose help him into the dressing gown. "Very Arthur Dent. Now, there was a nice man."

An unfamiliar weight hit his right leg, and he stuck his hand into the pocket. "Hold on, what have I got in here? A satsuma." He tossed it in the air and smiled at Rose. "Ah, that friend of your mothers. He does like his snacks doesn't he?"

Rose laughed, and the Doctor let himself hope he hadn't completely bollocksed things up by not telling her about regeneration.

"But doesn't that just sum up Christmas?" he continued, tossing the fruit up and catching it repeatedly. "You go through all those presents and right at the end, tucked away at the bottom, there's always one stupid old satsuma. Who wants a satsuma?"

Behind him, the Sycorax leader roared angrily. Timelines crystallised, and the Doctor threw the satsuma at a control on the wall, disengaging the part of the deck the Sycorax was standing on. He screamed as he fell to the Earth, but the Doctor didn't look back.

"No second chances," he said darkly. "I'm that sort of a man."

Not one Sycorax who observed his actions objected. They knew as well as he did that by attempting to attack when he had already forfeited the contest, their leader had violated the code that governed encounters like this—the code he had agreed to by accepting the Doctor's challenge.

Inside the ship, the Doctor stood in front of the TARDIS and looked around at the company of Sycorax warriors. "By the ancient rites of combat, I forbid you to scavenge here for the rest of time." He let his gaze travel from one part of the room to another, meeting the eyes of as many Sycorax as he could. "And when go you back to the stars and tell others of this planet, when you tell them of its riches, its people, its potential. When you talk of the Earth, then make sure that you tell them this. It is defended."

A blue light flashed around them as the Sycorax teleported them back to the surface. "Where are we?" Rose asked, voicing everyone's question.

"We're just off Bloxom Road," Mickey replied. "We're just 'round the corner, we did it!" He cheered and jumped up and down.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," the Doctor said, watching the ship carefully. A moment later, it flew away from London, and he allowed himself to smile.

"Go on, my son!" Mickey yelled. "Oh, yeah!"

Rose jumped onto his back and threw a fist up into the air. "Yeah! Don't come back!"

"It is defended!" Mickey hollered.

Rose slipped off his back and hugged him, then spun around and hugged Harriet's aide. The Doctor watched her exuberant celebration with a hint of jealousy—didn't he even warrant a hug anymore?

Harriet interrupted his train of thought before it could become a full-blown pity party. "My Doctor," she said proudly.

"Prime Minister," he returned, then pulled her in for a hug.

"Absolutely the same man," she told him. Then she looked up at the sky at the retreating ship. "Are there many more out there?"

The Doctor sucked in a breath. "Oh, not just Sycorax. Hundreds of species. Thousands of them. And the human race is drawing attention to itself. Every day you're sending out probes and messages and signals. This planet's so noisy. You're getting noticed more and more. You'd better get used to it."

"Rose!"

Jackie's cry distracted the Doctor from his conversation with Harriet, and he watched Rose run to her mother.

"Mum!"

"Oh, talking of trouble," the Doctor mumbled as he walked towards them.

"Oh, my God!" Jackie squealed. "You did it, Rose! Oh!"

"You did it too!" Rose told her. "It was the tea. Fixed his head."

The Doctor smiled at Jackie. "That was all I needed, cup of tea."

Jackie nodded sagely. "I said so."

"Look at him." Rose beamed and gestured at him.

"Is it him, though?" Jackie asked doubtfully. "Is it really the Doctor?" But then she saw someone of infinitely more interest to her than himself, and her jaw dropped. "Oh, my God, it's the bleeding Prime Minister!"

"Come here, you," the Doctor said, holding out his arms. Jackie reached him first, but their hug quickly became a group hug as both Rose and Mickey wrapped their arms around them.

"Are you better?" Jackie whispered in his ear.

The Doctor pulled back so he could look her in the eye."I am, yeah," he promised.

Jackie nodded, then glared at Rose. "You left me."

The Doctor and Mickey both stepped back, knowing well enough not to get in between mother and daughter.

"I'm sorry," Rose said.

"I had all the food."

"Doctor," Harriet said, "if I might interrupt?"

"Yes, of course." The Doctor rocked back on his heels and put his hands in the pockets of his borrowed dressing gown. "What do you need, Prime Minister?"

"Are we truly safe from the Sycorax? Will they heed your warning, or will they regroup and attack a second time?"

The Doctor shook his head. "The Sycorax are an aggressive race, but they have a strict code during battle. I won the challenge, and the agreement was that they would leave the Earth alone. You won't see them again."

She looked at him for a long moment, then turned back to her aide. "Tell them to stand down."

Genius that he was, the Doctor quickly pieced together what had happened. When the young man turned away to speak quietly into his phone, the Doctor frowned and looked down at Harriet.

"How does Earth have a weapon that could take down a ship like the Sycorax's?" he questioned. "That's technology years beyond where you should be."

Harriet shook her head. "I can't tell you that, Doctor. You already know more than you should."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. _Time to do a bit of digging into early twenty-first century Great Britain,_ he thought.

To Harriet, he said, "Then just promise me this. Don't turn the Earth into one of the planets I have to warn others about."

Harriet hesitated. "I have duty to defend the people of this nation, Doctor."

"Firing on the Sycorax as they retreated wouldn't have been defence," he argued hotly. "It would have been murder."

"And what about the others who might come?" she countered. "You're not always here, Doctor. You weren't here today—Mr. Llewellyn and the Major, they were murdered. They died right in front of me while you were sleeping. In which case we have to defend ourselves."

The Doctor's brow furrowed in a deep frown. "I can't tell you everyone you meet will be friendly," he admitted. "But I can tell you that thousands of planets before you have managed to enter the space age without needlessly attacking other species. It can be done, Prime Minister."

He saw Harriet waver, and he pushed his advantage. "Yes, you have a duty to defend this nation, but more than that, you have a duty to be an example to them. The people will follow you, Prime Minister. Will you lead Britain to become a key player as the Earth takes its first steps into a larger world, or will you teach them to fear what is different—to shoot first and ask questions later?"

She pressed her lips into a thin line, then nodded slowly. "I see what you mean, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled down at her, remembering all he'd learned about Harriet Jones. Britain's golden age, he'd told Rose. It was her government that led the way to the formation of the first international agency designed to handle all extra-terrestrial activity approaching Earth. Part of the agency's charter was that violence should always be a last resort, reserved for situations when all other options had been extinguished.

He felt Rose's hand on his elbow and turned around. "Mum wants us to come up to the flat for dinner," she told him, biting her lower lip.

"Christmas dinner in the Tyler flat?" the Doctor said. "Sounds brilliant. Although…" He looked down at his attire. "I think I need to find something else to wear first."

Rose smiled tentatively. "Yeah, of course. Just come on up after you've changed."

The Doctor watched her link arms with her mother and Mickey and walk back towards Bucknell House, then he walked slowly to the TARDIS. Stepping into the console room brought the memories of his regeneration into sharp relief—the fear on Rose's face when she realised something was wrong, her confusion and doubt, the painful moment when she'd asked him to change back.

He walked a circuit around the console, tracing his fingers over the controls. _Of course she was confused,_ he reminded himself. _You never told her about regeneration, and then you just exploded into light right in front of her._

Another memory crept to the front of his mind, and he rocked back on his heels, his fingers resting lightly on the dematerialisation lever. Despite her obvious confusion, it had been Rose who'd taken care of him while he was sick. He closed his eyes and focused on the hazy memory. Rose… begging him to wake up… and reminding him of places he'd promised to take her.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, a hint of a smile playing with the corners of his mouth. She might have been confused initially, but she'd believed him eventually.

"Well, let's see what kind of outfit suits this new Doctor," he murmured to himself as he spun around and walked towards the wardrobe room.

The memories of the time he'd spent unconscious continued to solidify as he walked through his ship, and there was a spring in the Doctor's step by the time he reached the wardrobe room. Rose had taken such tender care of him while he was ill—surely that meant something?

He took the steps up to the second level lightly, then ran a hand along the rack of clothing on his left. A loud, Hawaiian print shirt caught his eye, more for the garish colours than because it appealed to him. He moved on down the rack, pulling out an eighteenth century magenta satin coat. The period look had done well for his eight incarnation, possibly…? But after a moment, he put it back and continued on. This body wanted something more understated, apparently.

"Understated," he muttered to himself, unsurprised when the next rack yielded nothing but clothes in various shades of brown. He passed over a few outfits, but then his eyes lit on a brown suit with blue pinstripes. He pulled it out and noted with pleasure that it would fit his new skinny body nicely—almost perfectly even.

An image formed in his mind. A long, swishy coat that would billow out behind him as he ran, hand in hand with Rose, from whatever alien threat they were challenging. With that picture firmly in his mind's eye, he lifted his gaze from the suit to the rack of coats directly in front of him. A grin spread across his face when he spotted the brown wool coat Janice Joplin had given him.

 _Perfect._ He snatched it off the rack and jogged over to a mirror, choosing a favourite pair of worn Chucks from the shoe rack on the way by. Tossing suit and coat both over the back of a chaise lounge, he quickly stripped off the pyjamas and donned his new outfit, adding a white oxford and brown tie to complete the ensemble.

Finally, he faced his new reflection in the mirror. _Oh, I'm a bit pretty this time, aren't I? Might as well have "Made for Rose Tyler" stamped on my forehead._

The thought didn't bother him, and he smirked slightly as he swung to the right and the left, admiring the way his coat swished around him. Hands in his pockets, he peered closer in the mirror, taking in the hair that Rose had called, "Just… sort of brown."

"I can work with this," he said, nodding in satisfaction.

His left eyebrow seemed permanently arched, and when he lifted it, it almost looked like a caricature. He made a few faces in the mirror, trying to get a feel for the expressions that would work and how they would look.

The Doctor's stomach growled lightly, and he pivoted away from the mirror and left the wardrobe room. It was time for the final test—what would Rose think of his new outfit?

oOoOoOoOo

After leaving the Doctor behind, Rose dutifully spent the rest of the afternoon helping her mum put Christmas dinner together. She tried to focus on what she was doing, but as the shadows lengthened, it became harder and harder to look away from the door.

 _How long does it take to change?_ she wondered. _Maybe he isn't coming…_

"So, is himself planning to join us any time soon?" Jackie asked as she set the turkey platter down in the centre of the table.

Mickey started carving, and Rose snagged a piece and nibbled on it before answering. "He said he would."

Jackie's grunt made it obvious how much she thought the Doctor's word was worth, and Rose gnawed on the inside of her cheek. She filled three plates with heaping servings of everything and tried not to worry that the Doctor had already made his escape in the TARDIS, leaving her behind on Earth.

The front door opened, and Rose's eyes swung up to meet the Doctor's gaze head on. The uncertainty lingering in his eyes both surprised and warmed her—maybe she wasn't the only one who was nervous?

She looked him up and down, taking in the outfit he'd chosen, and she couldn't help the smile of approval that crossed her face. How had she not noticed before how fit he was?

The Doctor's mouth stretched into a happy grin, and he bounced lightly on his toes before taking his long brown coat off and tossing it over the back of the sofa. "Looks like I got here just in time," he said, nodding to the table and the three full plates sitting in front of her mum, Mickey, and herself.

"Yeah, we were just about to start." Rose picked up his plate and loading it up with turkey and all the trimmings. She handed it back to him, then watched in amusement as he poured a generous amount of bread sauce over all of it.

"Come on then," her mum said. "Here, Mickey. Take the other end of my cracker."

The Doctor picked his up and held one end out to Rose. When it popped open, he was quick to put on the red paper crown found inside, and Rose couldn't help but compare him to the man he'd been before. Her first Doctor wouldn't have been caught dead doing something so silly and domestic, she was sure. (Silly, maybe. Domestic, never.)

But this Doctor wore an open, hopeful smile she'd never seen on his previous face, and he glanced down at Rose's cracker, then back at her. Picking up on his unspoken question, Rose took it in hand and let him help her open it.

The end of the cracker came off in her hand, leaving the Doctor holding the paper tube. He tipped it up and looked inside, then offered it to her. "Oh, that's yours."

Rose pulled out the crown. "It's pink!" she said as she unfolded it. "Mum, it should be yours," she added, putting it on despite the words.

Over her mother's shoulder, she spied a familiar figure on the telly. "Look, it's Harriet Jones," she said, pointing.

They all sat up a little straighter, and Rose watched the Doctor out of the corner of her eye as he watched the prime minister. A proud smile crossed his face when, in response to a question on the nation's military readiness for alien invasion, she announced that Great Britain's first approach would always be negotiation and mediation.

"You have something to do with that, then?" she asked quietly.

His left eyebrows arched almost up to his hairline. "What gives you that idea?" he teased.

"Oh, I don't know… maybe the very self-satisfied smile you've got there." Rose poked him in the shoulder. "Go on, what did you say to her?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I just pointed out that she's in a unique position to set an example for an entire nation of people, and did she want that example to be one that reaches for violence as the first option in every crisis?"

"Oh, well done," Rose breathed, and he beamed at her in response to her approval.

Jackie took the remote and clicked the television off with an almost vicious click. "Well, I don't know how any of you can act like this was just an ordinary day."

"No ordinary days on the TARDIS, Mum," Rose replied automatically, warming when the Doctor smiled softly at her. She remembered what he'd told her once, about how not everyone understood what it meant to travel with him.

" _But you, Rose,"_ he'd said, _"it's like you were made for this life."_

Looking at the Doctor now, Rose couldn't imagine ever leaving him. He might have changed, but underneath the new face was the same Doctor. Even if he didn't want her anymore, travelling with him was still the only thing she could see herself doing.

oOoOoOoOo

 _Really, it wasn't a bad day overall,_ Rose mused an hour later as she helped clear the table. _Alien invasion averted, and no one lying passed out on Mum's bed._

She shot a glance at the Doctor, who'd surprised everyone by offering to help with the cleaning up. He'd kept up a steady stream of chatter throughout the meal, proving his earlier comment about having a gob to be completely accurate. Rose had watched in growing amusement as her mum and Mickey, accustomed to a more taciturn Doctor, tried to make sense of this new man.

"You've got a few more manners this time then," Jackie commented to the Doctor when he brought the turkey platter in from the table.

"Mum, leave 'im alone." Rose set the Brussels sprouts down on the counter and turned around to return to the dining room. She and the Doctor reached the doorway at the same time, both turning their shoulders slightly to get through the narrow space without bumping into each other.

"Oh look, you two—mistletoe."

Rose froze and looked up, cursing silently when she saw the small bundle of greenery. As well as the day had gone, she still wasn't sure enough of the new Doctor to want her first kiss with him to be witnessed by her mother and her ex-boyfriend.

 _An' does he even want to kiss me?_ she wondered, shifting her gaze from the mistletoe to him. The impassive mask he wore gave nothing away, and Rose made a quick decision.

"S'just tradition, right Doctor?" she said as she pushed herself up onto her toes and brushed her lips over his cheek—near his lips, but not touching them.

She bit her lip and looked at him anxiously when her feet were flat on the ground again. The muscle in his jaw was flexing slightly, and he was looking anywhere but at her.

"Right. Of course. Tradition." He swallowed and finally met her gaze. "Happy Christmas, Rose."

Fears Rose had almost overcome swamped her again. If the Doctor was acting like this after nothing more than a kiss on the cheek… "Happy Christmas, Doctor," she said, forcing enthusiasm she didn't feel into her voice.

A wide smile stretched across his face, and even though he was new to her, she knew it was fake. "You know, I should really get back to the TARDIS. Our landing took a bit out of her. Wouldn't want to be stranded here because I didn't get her taken care of."

He was out the door, his coat swishing behind him, before anyone could get a word in edgewise.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** There's been an odd bug with the site all week. I've gotten notifications of your reviews, but none of them have actually appeared on the site. And since they don't technically exist, I can't reply-yet. I've put in a ticket and hopefully it will be resolved. Please don't think I'm ignoring your lovely comments. I promise I'll reply as soon as I can.

Timepetalsprompts holiday bingo: joy

 _Coward, every time,_ the Doctor berated himself as he closed the TARDIS doors behind him. He'd caught the look on Rose's face before he'd bolted from the flat, and he knew his sudden flight had hurt her.

He slumped into the jump seat. But the way she'd completely sidestepped a chance for a kiss had hurt _him._ He raked a hand through his hair. Was kissing this new him really such a horrible prospect that she couldn't bear to even share one with him under the mistletoe?

A new idea chilled him. _Or maybe… maybe she already knows she doesn't want me anymore, and she didn't want to send me mixed messages by kissing me under the mistletoe._

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. If that was the case, he wouldn't push her. A month with Rose Tyler would never be enough, but he'd always known he didn't deserve her. If she'd finally figured that out, then… He rubbed at his chest, trying to get rid of the hollow feeling in his hearts.

The TARDIS offered a hum of encouragement, but honestly, the idea that his relationship with Rose was in such a state that his time ship thought he needed sympathy only made him feel worse.

"I can do this," the Doctor muttered as he pushed himself to his feet and started down the corridor to his room. "I'll just have to remember how to be her best friend."

oOoOoOoOo

The smell of bacon frying woke Rose up on Boxing Day. She stumbled groggily into the kitchen and accepted a cuppa from her mum with a mumbled, "Ta." She'd spent a mostly sleepless night in her childhood bedroom, remembering the look on the Doctor's face just before he'd run from the flat.

"Out with it then," Jackie said as she flipped the bacon. "What's going on between you and that alien?"

Rose's fingers tightened around her mug. "Nothing."

Jackie snorted. "An' that's why you're sitting here looking like you've lost your best friend."

The words were painfully close to the truth, and Rose found herself blinking back tears. She swallowed hard, thankful that her mum's back was to her. By the time Jackie turned and brought the frying pan over to the table, she'd managed to choke back the tears.

"It's hard, that's all," she said as her mother served the bacon and put the pan back on the burner. "I've known him for over a year, and now we have to start all over. I don't even know if he'll still want me to travel with him."

A sudden wave of fear swamped Rose—what if the Doctor was gone? What if he'd left the flat the night before, gone back to the TARDIS, and just left? She dropped her cup and ran to the window, peering anxiously out at the street corner where the TARDIS had been last.

A whoosh of air left her lungs when she spotted the familiar blue box, but the relief only lasted a moment. He was still there, but that didn't mean he wanted her. Rose let the curtain fall back into place and sagged against the window frame, trying to regain some composure before she returned to the kitchen.

After taking a few deep breaths, she straightened her shoulders and went back into the other room. "What was that all about, then?" her mum asked as she sat back down.

Rose took a few bites of bacon before answering. "I just… it was silly. I thought maybe he'd left?"

Jackie set her cup down and stared at her. "You're in love with him." Rose opened her mouth to protest, and she waved her hand to keep her quiet. "Don't even bother denying it; you'd never be this worked up over him otherwise."

Rose bit her lip and opted for a scaled down version of the truth. "I thought maybe… before he changed." She floundered for the right words to give them impression that she'd still been testing the waters with the old Doctor.

Her mum nodded, not needing to hear anything more. "An' now you feel like you have to start all over."

"He doesn't want me anymore!" The words burst out of Rose. "You saw 'im last night, Mum. He couldn't get out of here fast enough after I kissed him under the mistletoe."

Her mum pursed her lips together. "I saw 'im last night, all right," she said. "I saw the way he looked at you when he walked into the flat, like a puppy wagging his tail, begging for your approval. I don't know much about your life and I'll never be understand that man, but it seems to me like he doesn't know if you still want him, now that he's changed."

Rose started to argue, then shut her mouth with a click. The memory of the first few minutes after his regeneration returned with painful clarity. She remembered the look on his face when she'd asked him who he was, the pleading in his voice when he'd begged her to believe he was the Doctor, the way he'd taken her hand when he'd shared the memory of how they'd met.

A smug smile crossed her mum's face. "There, y'see?"

"So what do I do?"

Jackie rolled her eyes. "What would you normally do if you wanted to let a bloke know you were interested?"

oOoOoOoOo

The week between Christmas and New Year's was one of the most difficult in the Doctor's long existence. Rose seemed determined to test his resolve to respect her wishes regarding their relationship. When he entered the flat on Boxing Day, she greeted him with a soft smile that lit up her eyes and made him feel like the only other person in the world—and that was just the beginning.

The whole week, everywhere he went, she was there—handing him tools in the TARDIS as he carried out the needed repairs, taking his hand and tugging him out into the street when she insisted he needed to get outside and stretch his legs, curling up beside him on the couch watching telly at night, shooting him that bloody smile that made him want to suck her teasing tongue into his own mouth.

But the touching—oh, the touching was the worst. They'd always held hands, from the moment they met. That he could deal with. But she kept trailing her fingers down his arm, or walking so close that her thigh brushed against his. This body had been born wanting Rose Tyler, and with each accidental caress, his restraint was pushed closer to the breaking point.

After a few days, in a desperate attempt at self-preservation, he tried to tune her out when she talked. He should have been capable of focusing his mind on other things, but his traitorous brain had apparently decided Rose Tyler's voice was top priority, and no matter what he did, he could always hear every word she said.

But she didn't know that, and he found that if he pretended to ignore her, only replying with non-committal grunts, she gradually backed off, eventually only touching him when she absolutely had to.

Shortly after supper on New Year's Eve, Rose disappeared into her room. The Doctor missed her company, but he also drew a breath of relief—and oh, how he hated needing breaks from her constant presence.

When she stepped back into the living room half an hour later, all the air left the Doctor's lungs. "What are you doing dressed like that?" he blurted out, taking in the deep red dress whose short skirt offered a tantalising view of her gorgeous legs.

"I told you about the party at Shareen's," she reminded him. "Even asked if you wanted to come, but you just sorta mumbled something and kept working on the TARDIS."

The Doctor remembered now. The idea of Rose decked out for a party had made drop his wrench on his toes—and Chucks, for all their stylishness, did not protect well against heavy objects. His resulting outburst had easily redirected the conversation, and he'd conveniently forgotten about the party afterward.

"Ah. Right," he said out loud, covering his mistake. "The party at Shareen's. Well, have a good time then!" he chirped, imbuing his voice with as much cheerfulness as possible.

Rose pulled on a lightweight wool coat that hit her thigh two inches below the hem of her dress. "Sure you don't want to come?" she asked, fiddling with one of the buttons.

Several hours in a small flat with Rose while she was dressed to kill? The Doctor shuddered. "Yep!" he said, popping the p. "Don't understand why you humans are so determined to celebrate the new year anyway—it's just a day, like any other. Nothing special about the calendar turning over from one month to another, or even one year to another. Do you know, on Wavibane, they don't even count the years. Time just runs in one long, endless stream."

"Yeah, whatever," Rose said. "Humans are just stupid apes. If you'll excuse me, I'll be at Shareen's, attaching significance to meaningless moments." She swept out of the house, leaving a hint of hairspray and perfume lingering in the air behind her.

The Doctor stared at the door after Rose left, then a smack to the shoulder pulled him out of his morose musings. "Ow!" he whinged, glaring at Jackie. "What was that for?"

Her arms were crossed over her chest. "For being rude, first off," she told him. "There's nothin' wrong with celebrating New Year's, and you know it. There was no call for making Rose feel inferior to all them alien races you know."

"But… I didn't… Rose isn't inferior to anyone!"

Jackie rolled her eyes. "And that's the other thing—you're being daft," she said. "You look like a kid who's just dropped his lolly, you plonker."

He winced at the description, but he couldn't deny that he felt about as forlorn as a child who'd lost a sweet. "I don't expect you to understand," he said dismissively.

"Oh, you won't be getting away with that." She raised an eyebrow. "Rose is determined to go with you when you leave," she said, and the Doctor's hearts leapt. "I'm not sure it's such a good idea, but she's past the age where I can keep her home from school if I think it best. But I have to tell you, Doctor—I don't like the idea of her flying around with you when she could get hurt."

The Doctor leaned forward on the worn sofa. "Jackie, I promise you, I do everything in my power to keep anything from happening to Rose."

She snorted. "I'm not talking about being injured by aliens, am I?" she asked. "Unless we're counting you in with the aliens, which I suppose we have to."

The Doctor stiffened. "You can't think I would ever hurt Rose."

She rolled her eyes. "Not like you're thinking, no. But you've hurt her plenty, in ways that are harder to recover from."

"What are you talking about, Jackie?"

"You really are an alien, aren't you?" Jackie rubbed at her forehead. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered.

"Doing what? Because as near as I can tell, the only thing you're doing is sitting on the couch, making incomprehensible statements about me hurting Rose—which I'd like to state once again that I will never do."

"Oh really?" Jackie snapped. "What about changing in front of her without giving her any warning that it might happen? An' leaving her to take care of you on Christmas while there was an alien invasion going on? An' then—just when she thinks that maybe things can go back to how they were—running from her when you're caught together under the mistletoe?"

The Doctor had been feeling more and more guilty, but that last sentence stung. "We're just friends," he said, his voice wooden. "Rose kissed me on the cheek, and then I went back to the TARDIS to do some repairs while you lot watched telly."

"Oh, and if you think I'll believe that…" Jackie shook her head. "No, you were running. Running from the possibility of a closer relationship with my Rose."

"I ran because she doesn't want that, not anymore—not with me!" the Doctor exclaimed. A moment later, his face turned hot when he realised what he'd just given away.

The corners of Jackie's mouth turned up in a victorious smile. "I was right then. Oh, you and Rose are a fine pair, both of you convinced the other only wants to be friends. I don't know how the two of you manage to cook breakfast, let alone save a planet, if you can't communicate any better than that."

Jackie's insult barely registered with the Doctor—he was too distracted by the rest of what she'd said. "What do you mean, Rose thinks I don't want her? How could she… but we… for weeks! She knows how I…"

She held up a hand. "I don't know what the two of you were like before you changed your face, and frankly I don't want to. But you haven't done anything since then to let her know you're still interested."

The Doctor slouched down into the sofa. "You figured it out," he said petulantly, feeling extremely uncomfortable with the entire conversation.

"Because I can see the way you look at her when her back is turned, you plum!"

The Doctor closed his eyes as hot embarrassment swept over him. He wished fervently for the ability to teleport, to just disappear from the flat and reappear somewhere else—preferably somewhere far away from London.

Then his big Time Lord brain finally caught up with everything Jackie was saying. "So… Rose thinks, because I regenerated…"

"Well, you haven't told her otherwise, have you?" Jackie asked tartly.

He hadn't. It hadn't even occurred to him that it would be necessary. Regeneration didn't change who a Time Lord was, after all.

 _But how could Rose know that? She didn't know a thing about regeneration until last week, and I haven't exactly filled in the blanks since then._

The Doctor's mind spun with possibilities, and he jumped to his feet. "Thank you, Jackie," he said as he shoved his arms into his coat sleeves.

"Oh, don't thank me. I was just getting tired of watching the two of you mooning over each other like two lovesick teenagers."

The Doctor laughed and ran out of the flat, his mood considerably better than it had been the last time he'd left the place in a hurry. Why hadn't it occurred to him that Rose might need some sort of reassurance?

He slowed when he reached the courtyard. The TARDIS shone brilliantly under the street light, and her hum coaxed him inside. The lights in the console room were on, and the time rotor added a blue-green cast.

"You want to take me to Rose?" the Doctor asked, running his hands over the controls. The ship chimed an affirmative. She was ready to fly—he'd finished the last of the repairs that afternoon. He started to punch in the coordinates, then smiled when he remembered one of the human New Year's Eve traditions. "Why don't we get there just before midnight?"

oOoOoOoOo

Rose could hardly believe it when she saw the Doctor step through the door of Shareen's flat shortly after 11:30. _What's he doing here?_ she wondered. She spun around before he spotted her and grabbed a glass of champagne on the other side of the room. _He made it perfectly clear that this was all a silly human tradition._

The Doctor scanned the room slowly, and she felt an inkling of hope when she realised he was looking for her. She ducked behind a few people, trying to stay out of view for as long as she could, but finally, he caught sight of her.

His left eyebrow was cocked in question, and Rose lifted her glass to him in a silent salute. The faintest hint of a smile crossed his face, and he started towards her, only to be waylaid by an old friend of Rose's.

Rose didn't know if she was grateful or irritated when Keisha caught the Doctor's elbow and pressed a glass into his hand. An hour ago, she'd have been happy not to see him again until it was time to leave. But looking at him now…

"Okay, spill."

Rose jumped when she heard the voice, low in her ear. She'd been so focused on the Doctor that she hadn't heard Shareen sidle up beside her. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't even try that with me, Rose Tyler," her best friend warned. "I've known you too long to be fooled. What's going on with you and the fit bloke in the suit?"

"Nothing's going on between us."

Shareen snorted. "Right. And that's why he hasn't taken his eyes off you since the moment he got here."

Rose fiddled with the TARDIS key she still wore around her neck. "You're imagining things."

"No, I'm not. Keisha's got him now, talking his ear off, but no matter how many people step in between the two of you, he's still looking this way once he's got a clear line of sight again. And unless I've lost my touch—and we both know that hasn't happened—he's wanting to do a lot more than look."

"Nah… I mean, we used to… for a while I thought maybe… but he's hardly talked to me all week." Rose drained her glass and sighed. "I've tried everything, Shareen, and it's like I don't even exist."

Keisha spotted someone else she wanted to see and drifted off to another part of the room. The Doctor leaned back against the wall, and the meaningful way he stared at Rose made her breath catch in her throat.

"Told you," Shareen whispered as she walked away, taking Rose's champagne flute with her.

The Doctor indicated to the front door with his head, and Rose nodded. She watched him slip outside, and weaved her way through the crowded room to follow him, retrieving her coat from the hook on the wall on her way out. In the hallway, she spotted his coattails disappearing up the stairs to the roof, and she went after him.

When she reached the roof, the Doctor was standing with his hands shoved into his pockets. The pose was deceptively casual, but she could see the lines of tension in his body. It surprised her to realise she could already read the new him so well.

But the blue box behind him captured even more of his attention. "The TARDIS is ready to fly again?" she asked, rhetorically.

"Yep." The Doctor rocked back on his heels and patted the ship. "I took her into the Vortex after you left to make sure she was road worthy. She's in tip top shape."

Rose bit her lip. "So… what are you going to do next?"

He shrugged and tipped his head toward the time ship. "Well, back to the TARDIS. Same old life."

"On your own?" She played with the sleeve of her coat.

Something in the Doctor's eyes shuttered, and she finally allowed herself to really hope that he truly wanted her with him. "Why, don't you want to come?"

Rose took a deep breath. It was time to stop trying to protect herself and just be honest. "Well, yeah."

"Do you, though?" the Doctor pressed.

So her mum was right—the Doctor was unsure she wanted to be with him. "Yeah!"

His soft, vulnerable eyes stared at her. "I just thought, because I changed."

It started to snow, and Rose blinked as soft flakes landed on her eyelashes. "Yeah, I thought, because you changed you might not want me anymore."

The sigh of relief that escaped the Doctor at those words could be seen in every line of his body. "Oh, I'd love you to come."

Rose smiled shyly. "Okay."

The Doctor stepped forward, closing some of the distance between them. "I've been told I'm supposed to find someone to kiss at midnight," he said, his low voice sending a shiver down Rose's spine.

She looked up at him through her lashes and licked her lips, a thrill running through her when his gaze zeroed in on her tongue. "Well, what you're doing at midnight is supposed to be a prediction for what you'll be doing all year."

The warmth in the Doctor's eyes turned to heat. "Then I definitely want to be kissing you," he told her. "Is that all right with you, Rose Tyler?"

Her throat too dry to speak, Rose nodded quickly. Was it all right? It was exactly what she wanted, and more than she'd thought she'd be lucky enough to get.

The Doctor leaned down slowly, giving Rose enough time to back away if she wanted to. The uncertainty that hesitation indicated tugged at Rose's heart, and she pushed herself up on her toes to meet him halfway.

The touch of Rose's lips against his swept the remaining vestiges of doubt away. The Doctor cradled her jaw with one hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek, and rested the other lightly on her waist, holding her close.

Rose pulled back after only a moment and looked up at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She must have found whatever it was she was looking for in his eyes, because a moment later, she kissed him again, this time catching his bottom lip between hers.

Determined as he'd been to take things slowly, the Doctor couldn't help the soft moan of approval that escaped his throat. Rose's lips curved into a smile against his, and then her teeth scraped against his lip, sending a flash of heat through him.

Every thought disappeared from his mind save one—getting as close to Rose as possible. The hand on her jaw slipped around to the back of her head and he tilted his head slightly to allow for a deeper kiss. He felt Rose sigh against his lips, and that sign of her approval was all he needed. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting her for the first time in over a week.

Rose raked a hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. Sweet, hot lust washed over him at the sensation, and he tugged her close, letting her feel how much he wanted her.

For a brief moment, he indulged in the fantasy of pressing her against the TARDIS doors, but the latent awareness that it was probably still too soon for that drew him back. Well… that and the cold—if he could feel it, Rose in her dress and with her frail human constitution must be freezing.

Reluctantly, he gentled the kiss, finally pulling back to look down at Rose. His breath hitched in his chest when he saw the snowflakes clinging to her silky blonde hair. "Why didn't you kiss me like that under the mistletoe on Christmas Day?"

"Well…" she traced a pattern over his chest. "Outside of the fact that my mum and Mickey were both there, you'd changed. I didn't know if the new you would want me."

The Doctor tugged her close and rested his chin on top of her head. "I know I bungled things by not telling you about regeneration," he told her, "but there's something very important that you need to understand, Rose Tyler. I will _always_ want you."

Rose pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yes," he said firmly. "Regeneration only changes the things on the outside—including the little quirks of personality that aren't core to who I am. But the important things, the things that matter the most? Those will never change. I'm still yours."

She smiled and shifted to stand beside him, her arm linked with his. "My Doctor," she murmured.

A tremor of unease shivered through the Doctor at that claim. _She couldn't remember… could she?_

"Can I come home tonight?" she asked, keeping her eyes trained on the sky and the falling snow.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't remember—it was just an endearment, the way some would say, "My love."

"Sure, I can take you back to the flat. You should probably get inside anyway—that dress won't keep you warm."

"I didn't wear it to stay warm," she teased. "And I don't want to go back to the flat. I want to go _home_."

The Doctor furrowed his brow, trying to work out what she meant. Rose giggled and smoothed out the lines. "The TARDIS, with you—that's home."

She pulled on the chain hanging around her neck and revealed what had been nestled in her cleavage. All the air whooshed out of the Doctor's lungs when he recognised her TARDIS key.

He stepped back and indicated to the door. "Yeah. Let's go home."


End file.
